


An Unchaste Affair: Part One

by JustMosie



Series: An Unchaste Affair [1]
Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance, affair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-10 23:29:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 66,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustMosie/pseuds/JustMosie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before his family died, Patrick Jane loved living life as if it were to end the next day. He loved having fun at the expense of others. In mid-2002, Jane gets more than he bargained for when he signs on as a part-time consultant for the CBI. A romance that changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

An Unchaste Affair

Prologue

**June 3, 2002**

The pen in his grip was held in a relaxed sort of way as he signed his name on the bottom of the paper. Once finished, Patrick Jane looked up at Virgil Minelli, a worn man in his early fifties with greying temples.

A couple of months ago, when he had "helped" the local police in Los Angeles, he had gotten himself noticed by Minelli. Minelli had been amazed by his ability to quickly evaluate the crime scene and give a near-accurate background on the murder victim that the elder man had asked for his opinion more than once on the case. Jane eventually found himself staying in a hotel two nights that week away from his family, something he was not sorry to have happened.

While working the case, Jane was able to meet the senior agent, Roderick Martin. The man was very stern and Jane found it amusing to mess with him while working the case. Much to Martin's obvious dismay, though. Then there were Martin's two agents, Simmons and Flores. He took a rather immediate liking to both men, seeing as they both loved to be amazed by his perceptive talents and "psychic" abilities.

"Thank you for your time, Mister Jane."

Jane nodded and handed the paperwork over to Minelli. The man took it from him, glanced over at the signatures and nodded back, apparently happy with the signatures.

"I know this consultation work is on an occasional, part-time basis, but if you would ever like to alter your contract, feel free to call me."

Minelli knew that Jane had a profession elsewhere, and that was as a television psychic. He was also quite aware that Jane was borderline celebrity. Through this profession, Jane was not only able to con helpless people out of their money and charm the innocent, but have a tremendous amount of fun in the process. Though, Minelli did not realise that his new consultant was a mere con.

Nodding again, Jane stood to his feet and extended out his right hand for Minelli to shake. Minelli took it in his, gave it a firm shake, and said something about walking him to the elevator. Jane, in his most polite manner of speaking, told him that that was unnecessary and that he could easily locate the elevator.

As both men were on their way out of the office, Jane was rather surprised when Minelli stopped just outside of the door. Taking this as a distraction, and that he could slip away from Minelli, Jane started to make his way towards the elevators alone. Though, he was quite surprised to hear a woman's voice behind him in conversation along with Minelli's.

"Sorry I'm late, sir, but I had to meet with my new landlord."

"That's all right, Lisbon."

Without taking another step, Jane began to turn around on the spot. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a woman standing beside Minelli. Her stature was short and petite, her hair dark and hovered a little bit over her shoulders. She carried herself well and obviously wanted people to respect her in the workplace.

Curious about her sudden appearance, Jane started to come closer to the two people talking. It seemed as if Lisbon was new in Sacramento and her first instinct had been to report to Minelli, but had decided getting her living situation covered was her first priority.

"Will this apartment work?" Minelli asked in good spirits. It was almost teasing, and Jane realised that she had got the short end of a deal earlier before. Hence why she made sure to meet with the new landlord rather than come into work.

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

When she finished speaking, Jane cleared his throat and brought the attention unto himself. The woman, Lisbon, turned towards him and furrowed her brow as if angered at his desire to shift the attention. Looking up, Jane's gaze was caught in hers. Sure, he thought that the woman before him was quite attractive, but he had not expected her eyes to be an olive green. With her dark hair, he would think her eyes would either be dark, which he did not see from afar, or some shade of hazel.

"Ah, Lisbon, I'd like you to meet the CBI's newest consultant," she looked over at Minelli as if questioning his sanity. "Patrick Jane, psychic."

"That Patrick Jane?" she asked Minelli and shifted her eyes towards Jane's form. "Sir—."

Jane watched Lisbon become quiet when she realised that Minelli's face had grown firm, his jaw set. She had overstepped a fine line by questioning her new superior's choice.

"Yes, _that_ Patrick Jane," Minelli said and looked over at Jane in an apologetic manner. "Mister Jane, I'd like you to meet our newest agent, Teresa Lisbon. She just transferred in from the San Francisco Police Department."

He held out his hand towards Teresa Lisbon and watched as she, with much trepidation, took it. He gave it a firm shake, smiled, and waited for her to have some sort of response similar to the ones he usually received. For example, he rather prided himself whenever a woman would throw herself in his direction. But for some odd reason, the pretty Teresa Lisbon was not doing as expected.

"The pleasure's mine," he said to her, trying to dazzle her with the brightest smile he could summon.

When she began to withdraw her hand from him, she nodded and looked at her boss before responding. "The same."

At that moment, Patrick Jane realised that he had just met one of the most intriguing women he may ever encounter in his lifetime. And he would have great enjoyment in dissecting every single layer and shield that was held in place by this petite rookie.

Sensing that he ought to be gone, he started to walk backwards to the elevators. "I shall see you around, Agent Teresa Lisbon," he smiled at her once more and turned his back. Only once did he turn around and gaze at the curious little woman.

And curious was she indeed.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

**September 5-6, 2002**

Patrick Jane was thankful for several things. One, he was thankful for his ever-escalating career. Two, he was thankful that his career happened to be _particularly_ entertaining. And three, Patrick Jane was thankful that he had decided to work with the police.

That being said, if he had not been working with the police, then he would have never met one delectable Teresa Lisbon. As soon as his eyes landed on the petite homicide detective when he saw her in that corridor outside Minelli's office, he knew he was a goner. Despite that not being the most wondrous way to meet a woman, it only made it more memorable.

Teresa Lisbon wore her dark hair short, a little bit off the shoulders, which framed her face splendidly. The shortness of her locks also helped create her eyes to pop from her face. Her eyes alone were enough to make any man lust for her. That is, if she didn't intimidate them first.

Yes, the little firecracker of a detective was indeed a feisty one. She took no crap from anybody. Especially him.

"Snap out of it, Jane."

Temporarily pushing away his thoughts, Jane looked over at Lisbon as she came to stand beside him, a clipboard clutched in her hand. He smiled at her, one that would make all the middle-aged women turn into puddles of goo, and made a gesture for her to move past him.

"After you, Teresa." He knew she was not fond of him referring to her by her first name, but that was just another part of his elaborate plan in the attempt to seduce her.

She sighed. "Jane…."

He just merely tossed his head to the side. _"Lisbon."_

After her surname left his lips, she shot him a rather annoyed glare. It really didn't help. Her, at least.

Lisbon walked past him up to the most recent murder victim. She stopped before the coroner and started asking away the usual questions. ("What was the time of death?" "Do you have any idea what the murder weapon was?")

Pulling his attentions away from Lisbon, Jane started to look around the crime scene. It was a park, which much was obvious. Very public, so he wanted to immediately assume that it was an anonymous murder. Or, possibly, that's what the murderer wanted everyone to think. Then Jane looked back at the victim. It was a woman. Young, red-headed, and long-legged. Rather pretty, too, if it were not for the knife sticking out of her neck.

He thought it was safe to assume that the knife was the cause of death. Anyone who thought otherwise would surely need to be slapped upside the head. Though, leave it to Lisbon to be thorough and ask away either way.

For a couple of moments, Jane watched Lisbon scribble the last of her notes down. Afterwards, she looked at the coroner, muttered a "thanks" and set off towards Jane. He could not suppress the slight chuckle that left his lips when she scowled at what she had written. Or it could possibly be him. One may never truly know the truth.

She cleared her throat, "Victim's name is Ashley Sergent, twenty-one years old, and resides in Los Angeles."

Hmm, they were in Sacramento. Bit far from home. Especially in September.

"She's no college student," he stated, "Doesn't look the type."

Lisbon shrugged her shoulders and scowled again. This time, it was definitely directed at him. "You don't _know_ that! We don't know that!" she protested.

He waved her off. "Meh."

Furrowing her brow, Lisbon clutched the clipboard tighter to her chest. "You pay me to make observations, _Lisbon_. Here I am. Making observations." He gestured to the public park around them. Yep, definitely making observations.

Lisbon looked as if she wanted to bite his head off. No, no she looked like she wanted to shoot him dead.

"Tell me, _Lisbon_ , did you find any school identification in her purse?"

The petite detective shook her head, "No." Her voice sounded very strained and annoyed. "But that doesn't mean that it couldn't have fallen out of her purse."

Once again, Jane shrugged his shoulders and waved her off. She narrowed her eyes and looked away. Smirking at her actions, he started to walk away and pull out his cell phone. He had to make a call to his wife, and explain how he was unable to be home in time for dinner. That he wouldn't be able to catch his flight.

~O~

The man was infuriating. Patrick Jane, that is. It was blatantly obvious that the man was not only a fraud, but also a licentious, two-timing bastard. It was not an uncommon thing to see the man meandering around Sacramento, heading off to a hotel, with some blonde bimbo on his arm. It only grew worse when he decided to move his unfaithful nature over onto her, rather than keep bedding the willing women. He wouldn't stop with the smoldering looks and suggestive comments. Or when he would "accidentally" brush against her. His advances only annoyed her.

What a cold bastard! He was married to a wonderful woman and a father to a beautiful little girl, and yet he would go off and lay with other women. Had he any conscious? She doubted it.

"Lisbon! Observation room, five minutes!"

Lisbon's eyes snapped over towards her superior, Senior Agent Roderick Martin. Agent Martin was well into his later forties, possibly even fifties. His hair was sparse in some areas, though the hair on his face seemed to make up for it.

She nodded, "Yes, sir," she said.

At his confirmation, Martin gave her a slight nod before he walked off towards the interrogation rooms. Sighing to herself in resignation, she started off a few steps behind him. Much to her dismay, she hated never being able to take lead in interrogations. When she lived and worked for San Francisco PD, and being practically married to the job, she thought that this transfer with all of her honours would grant her the ability to take lead in an interrogation. But of course, she was wrong.

Upon opening the slightly heavy door to the observation room, she almost groaned at the sight of an all-too familiar man standing next to the glass. At the sound of her entrance, he turned and flashed a bright smile in her direction.

"Jane."

He tipped his head towards her, his smile never faltering, _"Lisbon."_ And she suddenly started to feel uncomfortable in this position.

Clearing her throat, she looked at a spot on the wall behind him, in an attempt to preoccupy herself. "I thought you'd be home with your wife."

His eyes snapped towards hers, making it impossible for her to look elsewhere. " _We_ have a case," he said, "and I called Angela. Told her that I would be unable to arrive home in time for dinner. Or for the next few days."

Jane moved closer to her and she walked backwards until her back connected with the wall. She didn't like being cornered, and she was quite certain that he knew that. He ended up before her, his face a few centimetres away from hers. He was close enough for her to feel his breath just brushing across her cheek. And that made her think of…never mind.

"Jane…," she said in a warning tone, "What are you doing?"

The man before her pulled back a little bit and looked down at her, "I'm _observing_ my subject," he stated in an almost bored tone, as if tired of telling her this over and over again. "And I must say that I am _riveted_."

Her eyes slipped shut and she tried to hold onto the wall behind her. "Jane, stop."

She felt him pull back away from her, which caused her to open her eyes. He was almost on the other side of the room again, and she straightened her posture. She was about to question as to why he had so suddenly moved when the door to the observation room opened up. In came one of her teammates, Agent Flores.

Agent Flores stopped a second and looked her over. The way he did so wasn't in an unflattering manner, but more so in surprise and concern. She appreciated Agent Flores' dedication to his wife. Unlike another in the room….

"Lisbon, are you all right?"

She nodded her head, "Yeah, thanks," and tossed a look over at Jane, who wasn't even trying to hide his grin.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

~O~

Once the interrogation was over, Jane took great pleasure in watching Lisbon scurry out of the observation room. She had kept her head held low, as if she were a wounded puppy running away. It kind of gave him some sort of satisfaction that he could get to her with so little effort.

Well, that was only half the satisfaction. The other half was how her body had responded to him being so close to her. The way her pupils dilated before they slipped shut and the sound of her breath slightly hitching in her throat. Oh, it made him only desire her even more than he had.

After he too had left the observation room, the senior agent came up to him and asked his take on the interrogation. In all honesty, he did not really want to talk about the interrogation, but he did so anyway. There was nothing suspicious about the suspect. The man was just…creepy and craving attention. Therefore, he did not commit the murder. Martin didn't like his observations, but brushed off any complaint before issuing it.

About an hour after the interrogation, he found himself leaving the CBI Headquarters. It was getting rather late, and he wanted to get some appropriate sleep the night before he would spend the next day doing two things: solving a murder case with his "psychic" skills and seducing Teresa Lisbon. Both seemed rather entertaining, and he hoped for the latter to be his reward.

Patrick Jane fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow that night. And he had nothing but pleasant dreams for the duration of his sweet slumber.

The next morning, Jane awakened feeling fresh and well rested. As per usual, from what he had gotten used to due to being on the road for the majority of the year, he showered, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby for breakfast. He then set off for the CBI Headquarters once more that week. He arrived a little bit after nine that morning, and was rather happy to see everything going along as usual. People were moving around in a high-speed as they searched for leads (or coffee). It always brought some kind of smile to Jane's face.

He said his brief hellos to everyone and helped one agent locate the sugar before he sat in a swivel chair to wait for the specific team he worked with. Martin came first, as usual, with his briefcase clutched tightly in a hand. When he walked past Jane, he just gave him a stern nod before continuing onto his office. Jane thought about following him, but decided against it when Flores and Simmons walked through the door. Both men held coffees and chatted in a rather animated tone.

"'Mornin', Jane," Flores said as he walked behind his desk. "Sleep well?"

Jane rather liked Agent Flores. The man was a good one, albeit slightly foolish. He held onto so many false beliefs and claims that it detracted from a more objective point of view on life. Simmons, on the other hand, was a little less foolish. But not by much.

Simmons sat at his desk and plopped a, from what Jane could smell, a bag of glazed donuts on his desk. The very smell brought a smile to Jane's nose, as he knew that the last thing that Simmons needed was a bag full of sugary goodness.

"Seen Lisbon, Jane?" Simmons asked as he started digging through his paper bag.

Jane shook his head. "Not since last night."

The larger (and rather gluttonous) agent raised his eyebrows and looked over at Flores. Flores gave him a similar look, which was one of shock and curiosity. Strange, both hadn't seen Lisbon either. This meant she either spent the night at the CBI or having a really bad morning. Possibly both.

Without giving much thought, Jane took a donut from Simmons and sat back into the swivel chair, looking in the direction of the elevators. After eating the donut and brushing way the bits of glaze that had dropped onto his chest, he stood and made his way towards the elevator. Taking a brief moment to study it, he was rather surprised when the doors opened and out came one Teresa Lisbon.

She wasn't looking up as she walked through the doors, and that is why she ran head-on into him. The coffee she had been holding in her hand was knocked forward, onto him and all over the floor. At the searing pain caused by the hot coffee, Jane jumped back, yelped, and started to pull off his suit jacket.

"Oh, God!" she said, "I'm so—."

Lisbon caught sight of him. "Sorry," she finished.

Some of the coffee had leaked onto his vest, so he unbuttoned it without looking up at her. He had rather liked this suit, and was sorry that it had become soiled with coffee. And despite her apology, he was rather doubtful that she really was sorry due to him being Patrick Jane and all.

Looking up, he smiled. "Could not contain your excitement to see me, could you, Teresa?" he teased.

Jane watched as the colour rushed into Lisbon's cheeks and her eyes narrowed in a dangerous fashion. To most men, she was probably intimidating, but he wasn't most men. He found it rather endearing and sexy to see her like that.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

He looked around, pretending to look bored. "Well, I am consulting…."

Rolling her eyes, she walked away from him and towards the bullpen. The other two agents, Simmons and Flores, glanced up at her. She mumbled something regarding Jane and coffee, and after that, activity went back to normal in the bullpen.

~O~

For Lisbon, it was almost automatic to apologize to whomever she collided into. Especially when she had been holding coffee in her hand. But when she had pulled back slightly, enough to see that it had been Jane, the apology died on her lips. Or at least the sincere one. She only finished the statement because there were people watching.

And of course, he had to start undressing in front of her and make some sort of suggestive comment. At least he did not decide to go further, and fully remove his shirt from his body.

Later, upon noticing that some of the coffee had managed to stain her white blouse, she stood up to go get changed. When she returned to her little desk, a coffee was on top of her desk. Picking it up, she was surprised that it was from a gourmet little shop a couple of blocks away from the CBI. And upon tasting it, the flavour was familiar. And her absolute favourite.

She didn't need to guess as to from whom it was from, and she was tempted to throw it out. But she refused to waste good coffee. Even if it were from an arrogant fraud.

The rest of the day went by surprisingly easy. Jane didn't do anything _that_ rude or _that_ uncalled for. His suggestive comments were even kept to a minimum. By four in the afternoon, the case of Ashley Sergent's murder was solved, and Flores happily bid everyone farewell to go see his son's soccer game. Simmons followed not long after, saying that he ought to take his wife out to eat.

And that just left Lisbon alone in the bullpen, essentially. She sat behind her desk, checked a couple of emails on her slow computer, and tried to think about what kind of take-out she should have for dinner.

Upon deciding on grabbing some Chinese and returning to the bullpen to look over cold cases (Something she'd started doing about three months ago. She found it oddly relaxing) until she would decide to go home, Martin came up to her desk. He looked down at her from where he stood, his brow knitted together.

"Lisbon, you should go."

She raised her eyebrow, "Sir?" she questioned.

Martin took a hand out of his pocket. "The case has been solved and you shouldn't have to be here anymore. Go home."

This wasn't the first time Martin had told her after a case that she ought to go home. She didn't really like being told so, and she still was not planning on leaving.

So, to pacify Martin, she nodded her head. Martin smiled at her, lingered for a second, and walked back towards his office. Lisbon looked over in his direction briefly, took a deep breath, and started to reach for her wallet that was stowed away in her briefcase.

She wasn't really a purse-carrying woman.

Standing from her chair and sticking her wallet in the back pocket of her jeans, she started to make her way out of the bullpen when a familiar head of blond curls came around the corner. She paused for a second and had to bite down on her tongue to refrain from saying anything rude and inappropriate.

From seeing her, he smiled and started over to her. At that moment, she looked towards the elevators, and then back at him.

Giving her a slight nod, he spoke. "Leaving for dinner?"

She gave a quick nod. "Yes. And then I'm going home."

His smile only grew. "Where's your briefcase?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because, you would not be going home without it."

Lisbon stiffened and crossed her arms over her chest. "Sometimes I do leave it behind, Jane."

He shook his head, his grin only growing. "Not before weekends." She rolled her eyes once more and looked up at the ceiling. "Am I right?"

Cocking her head to the side and glaring at him, his smile dulled a little bit and he reached up to scratch his upper lip. He then pulled back away from her and gestured for the elevator.

"No," she said in a defiant manner, "you aren't right."

And she brushed right past him.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

**September 21, 2002**

Jane drove to Los Angeles sometime on a Friday afternoon about two weeks after he helped solve the Ashley Sergent murder. He had a show the following morning, and was tingling with excitement. He could not help but look forward to not only making more money, but also having immense fun in the process of it all.

When Saturday morning came, he pushed the blankets from his body and began his morning ritual. After showering and making sure that he was clean-shaven, he dressed in a new dark blue suit and was off to the studios. Grabbing a bagel on the way, he paused for a moment when he noticed something peculiar.

Not far from the studio and about a block away from the little bagel shop, there was crime scene tape boxing in a specific location. Without giving it much thought, he looped around once more and glanced around for any sign of the CBI. Seeing none, he went on his way towards the studio once more.

The show went on as expected. He had enjoyed it, but because he saw the crime scene tape earlier, his mind kept on wandering on and off as to whether or not he should drive back while he goes back to his hotel. He found this rather irksome, and that he could not do his job as perfect as his "usual." There were a couple of moments when the person looked surprised or shocked that he had made a small mistake, but he was usually able to cover it up. It took extra effort this time to come up with a smooth recovery every time he screwed up. This was unlike him.

So, he thought it would be a good idea to make another loop. This would only pacify that niggling batch of thoughts that kept his thoughts muddled. He did not even want to think of what sleep would be like if he did not go investigate his suspicions further.

Slipping into his silver BMW, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed home. He waited for a couple of seconds before a woman on the other end picked up the phone. She sounded haggard and restless all the same.

_"Hello?"_

"Angela," he said with a sigh, "I will not be home in time for dinner."

On the other end of the line, he heard her take in a deep, frustrated breath. For a second, he felt guilt creep up along his spine for letting Angela and Charlotte down once more. He was also quite certain that Angela had been expecting this.

_"Patrick, you told her that you would be home. You told our daughter!"_

The guilt washed in once more and he felt some of the colour drain from his face. He loved his little girl, contrary to what a lot of people that lived in the neighbourhood thought. They saw him come and go "as he pleased" and often doubted his love for little Charlotte. But that was all false, for he loved her even more than his wife.

He swallowed, "I will be home later tonight, Ange."

Angela did not take the time to say anything else. Without even so much as making a sound on the other line, she just ended the call. For a couple of seconds, Jane was left staring at the blank screen in silence before he started up the engine of his BMW and drove off towards the crime scene.

Jane found it rather fast. The scene was hard to miss with police cars and everyone scurrying about. From what he could tell in the car, the body had been removed and whisked away to the medical examiner's office.

Parking his car along a curb, he stepped out and moved on towards the scene, straightening his jacket in the process. A deputy outside of the yellow tape stopped him, and he was about to reach into his pocket to "take out his identification" when he heard someone call him over.

Looking over the deputy's shoulder, Jane was rather happy to see Simmons coming his way. It meant two things: one, he could get in under the tape. And two, Lisbon was here somewhere.

"Simmons!" he said with a smile adorning his face, "Good to see you!"

Simmons came up to the tape, next to the deputy, and flashed his badge. The larger agent mumbled something and the tape was held up for Jane to walk under. Flashing a smile to the deputy and offering him a slight wave, Jane walked underneath and in step with Simmons.

"Didn't know you were going to be here, Jane."

Jane shrugged, "I was in the neighbourhood," he said in a simple manner.

Simmons grunted, "Yeah, and good thing too. We just took over this case, and we could use your opinion on a few things."

Nodding, Jane surveyed the area once more. It was a public place; no one in his or her right mind would question that. "Martin?"

"Setting up the temporary office."

"Flores?"

"Questioning civilians who were on the scene relatively early."

Jane peered at Simmons closely. "Lisbon?"

Simmons chuckled, "She's speaking with other officials. Dunno 'bout you, but I think Martin gave her the harder job out of all of us. Most officials don't like talking to her, you know?"

Jane nodded, knowing very well that most people despised speaking to a petite woman, even though she was a state agent. And they could probably sense that she was rather new at being an aforementioned state agent, as she had recently transferred to the CBI from San Francisco.

"Yeah, I know," he said and looked around again, finally seeing Flores flipping around his notebook.

"Listen," he continued, "Can you call Martin on your cell phone and tell him I am here?"

Simmons nodded and started pulling out his thick, black phone. The damn things just kept on getting smaller.

~O~

With a huff, Lisbon snapped her notebook closed and started back towards where she saw Simmons a little while ago. She _hated_ talking to local law enforcement! They always looked down upon her for being two things: under thirty and a woman.

Pausing and looking around, she was surprised to see that Simmons was nowhere near where he was a little over five minutes ago. Strange, he wasn't one for moving around a lot at crime scenes. Especially if they involved traveling long distances in order to arrive at them.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Flores doing his "usual" thing and talking around with everyone and taking notes in his chicken-scratch handwriting. She was about to go over to him and ask about Simmons when the man in question walked past her. With an all-too familiar man.

"Jane!" her voice went up a couple of notches.

He turned around at the sound of her voice and smiled, "Lisbon!" he said full of excitement, "How are you?"

She just stood there, rage threatening to blow over. She should have known that he would come – Los Angeles isn't but an hour from Malibu, and he did a lot of his shows here.

"Fine," she managed out of her clenched teeth.

Her frustration could only make his smile grow larger, and that is what made her feel the overwhelming urge to punch him in the nose. The past two weeks had been wonderful and Jane-free. A record, if she may say.

His smile grew and the corners of his eyes crinkled. He looked over at Simmons, tipped his head as a way of saying goodbye, and started over to her. As soon as she saw that, she turned and started off in a rapid pace towards the rented vehicle.

She knew he was following her, she would be naïve if she denied that fact. Ever since he had first laid eyes on her, he had been following her around like a lost puppy. Well, not really lost. More like a determined dog seeking a female. And that thought sent a series of shudders up her spine.

"Teresa!" he called from beside her, which caused her to jerk off to the side before continuing her trek towards the car.

When she grasped onto the door handle and started opening it, she gasped when a larger hand pushed it closed once more. Turning on the spot, ("Hey!") she glared at the man of her annoyance and slight anger. The man, however, seemed to enjoy seeing her flustered anger steadily grow.

Jane leaned in close to her, pressing his body closer to her. "Why do we play this game, Teresa?"

His eyes bore down unto hers, burning into her. She looked off to the side, seeing one hand near to her head and then looked down, finding (or feeling) its partner at her waist. He had only touched her once, and that was when he shook her hand at their first meeting. So, this was crossing the very thin line between them.

"Jane…" she said in a warning tone. "Get your hand off of me before I break it."

The blond man only shook his head, "Uh, no."

"You're married," she reasoned.

He shrugged, "Minor detail."

"Jane.…"

"Patrick."

"Jane…."

"Teresa."

She rolled her eyes at him and tried to get away from his grasp, only to still be held in place. He was quite strong, under those spruce suits. And that was quite a surprise. Still, it did nothing to staunch the anger that was beginning to roll off of her in waves.

When her eyes returned to his, she was startled at how intense and serious he appeared. There was no joking glint, like there always was. No, he looked dead-serious as to what message he was trying to get past to her. And that is why she wanted to strangle him.

"Go out to dinner with me."

Her heart stopped for a second and she peered at him through narrowed eyes. "Excuse me?"

He leaned in a bit closer, "Go out with me," he said, "to dinner."

"Will you let me go? If I do?" she reasoned and he nodded. "All right," she said whispered, "I'll go out to dinner with you."

~O~

For the remainder of the afternoon, Jane felt as if he were through the moon. He had not thought he would have to go to "extreme" measures to get Lisbon to go out with him, but he found them all very worth the troubles.

In order to get ready for the evening, he made sure to purchase a nice dress for her. Knowing that Lisbon had definitely not packed one for the case. He had spent a good amount of time pouring over the latest fashions, and finally decided on a simple black one. He did not want other men glancing around the restaurant and spotting her, like they no doubt would have if he had purchased the red dress.

He picked up a quick pair of nice sandals, guessing at her size and deciding it would be best if he did not buy any actual shoe, and pair of diamond earrings. Smirking to himself as he drove to her hotel, he knew she would not like that he took matters into his own hands when it came to dressing her.

Upon knocking on the door and handing her the bags, she immediately protested. Yes, he was expecting this, and continued to push the bag closer to her and inform her "it would be rude for her to reject it." And with a huff of extreme annoyance, she grabbed the bag and walked into the bathroom, making sure it was locked tight.

A few minutes later, she reemerged from the bathroom, looking rather sheepish and uncomfortable dressed as a woman. And just as Jane suspected, she looked delectable. The dress fit her body like a glove, and he was glad to have opted for the size he did. The larger size would have worked, too, but not like it was now. The way it emphasized the curves of her hips made him almost decide to get her drunk whilst at dinner and seduce her as he returned her to the hotel. Though, that would most likely not turn out too well.

"You look wonderful," he said as he stood up from the edge of her bed.

When he stood, he noticed the cross around her neck. A few times he had seen the chain as it glinted in the fluorescent lights at the CBI, and he frequently tried to guess as to what it was. He would never have guessed that it was a cross. But it made sense.

Lisbon looked down at her toes and narrowed her eyes. "Where are we going?"

She crossed her arms over chest and tipped her head to the side in an expectant manner. Ah, he knew there had been a woman underneath all those man clothes.

"It's a surprise."

"Jane…."

"Patrick."

In frustration, she shut her eyes and held up a hand. "Patrick," she said in a rather calm tone, "Can you please tell me where we are going?"

He smiled and shook his head, "Sorry, my dear, but I cannot."

Walking across the room and touching the door handle, he gestured for her to follow him. She rolled her eyes and breathed a sigh of frustration as she grabbed her wallet. "Dammit, Jane, tell me!"

Jane just smiled at her and tugged the door open. As she walked through it, they both knew that their night would change their outlook on one another.

~O~

She arrived back in her hotel room at almost midnight, exhausted. Despite what she had thought at first, an evening with Patrick Jane wasn't so bad. Of course, yes, he still laid out multiple suggestive comments, but other than that, he was a gentleman. Though, she was quite sure that he had an ulterior motive as to why he was acting like a perfect gentleman. She pretty much called it out once she started back towards the hotel, when he said he would "escort" her. Laughing, she denied him.

Seeing her bed, she slipped off her new sandals and plopped down upon it. The mattress was soft and she felt her eyes grow heavy. As she continued to slip further into a dreamless reverie, she kept on trying to tell herself that what she had done last night wasn't wrong. That it was acceptable for her to go out to eat with a married man and have a good time. She did nothing wrong.

Groaning and sitting up in the bed, she huffed and set to work on removing her dress. After slipping the fabric from her body, she curled up inside the bed's warm confines and fell fast asleep. The last image in her mind was of Patrick Jane as he smiled at her across the table.

~O~

It was late when Jane got home, past one in the morning for sure. Quietly, he slipped inside his house and made his way towards the stairs, wondering why Angela had left the main lights on downstairs. Shaking all thoughts from his head, he was about to start his journey on them, he heard a noise that snapped him out of the thought of going to bed.

"Ange?" he called out.

Not to his surprise, the dark silhouette of a woman stood from the couch. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she made her way across the room, anger evident in her brown eyes.

"Where were you?" she demanded in a hoarse voice.

He looked at her in the eye. "In Los Angeles, helping the CBI solve the case."

Behind him, was a clock, and her eyes flickered towards it. "Even at one in the morning?"

"Ange, it is about an hour drive from Los Angeles, you know that. And I could not just leave the cops hanging. You know how incapable at doing their jobs they are!"

Angela brought her hands down from her chest and came in closer. "Did you help any female agents, Patrick?" she spat.

He pretended to be hurt and took a step back away from her, his hand flying to his chest. "Why would you even say that?"

Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him full of rage. "I know that Martin has a pretty little agent on his team."

At the indirect mention of Lisbon, Jane raised his eyebrows. "Are you sleeping with her?"

Angela's arms crossed over her chest and she switched her foot stance. Jane's eyes locked with hers ones more, eyebrows falling back to their usual place. He was quite surprised at Angela's direct question, but he also knew that she was no mark.

So, preparing himself for a short time and coming up with a quick answer, he said the first thing that came to mind. "No, I am not having an affair with her."

Alarm flashed through Angela's eyes, and Jane knew she was skeptical about it. In actuality, he was telling the truth. He was not sleeping with Teresa Lisbon at the moment, though he would be lying if he had told her that he did not wish to.

"Ange," he said her name and grasped her arm. "We should go to sleep."

He would sleep on the couch that night.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

**October 12, 2002**

Jane found himself back in Sacramento a little after October blew in. He had no show planned, but the CBI had called him in to help investigate the murder of a young man, Russell Andrews. Russell had been shot point blank in broad daylight, and so far, they CBI had hit dead end after dead end. So, naturally, he offered his services, despite Angela's expressed wishes that he stay home.

When he had first seen Lisbon upon walking into the Headquarters, she first gave him al look of surprise and then annoyance. He was quite happy that the annoyance happened _after_ the surprise this time. It was an improvement compared to the last time he had first met up with her at a crime scene.

"Would you like to do dinner again?" he asked when he fell in step with her.

Lisbon looked over her shoulder at him and then back to front. "No," she said with an annoyed tone.

"Why?"

"Because I have a boyfriend, Jane," she snapped over her shoulder.

Jane paused and looked at her, she stopped a little bit away from him after realizing that he had halted. She was lying, of course! He raised his eyebrow at her and smiled. "Liar!"

Lisbon rolled her eyes and turned around once more to continue on walking. Quickening up his pace a little bit to catch up with her, he was in step with her again, almost jogging to keep up with her.

"You lied to me now, why is that?" he questioned, "You seemed to have enjoyed yourself the last time we had dinner together."

She stopped again and turned to look at him. "You're married," she said through clenched teeth, "Stop it!"

He was about to toss his head to the side and say "meh" when she narrowed her eyes and continued. "I don't like you, Jane! And I don't want to start something that I already know the end to!"

As she turned away from him, he reached out and grabbed her elbow. Tugging her closer to him, he sobered up his expression a little bit, knowing she would not like to see a carefree expression on his face.

"How do you think it is going to end, then?" he asked her.

Lisbon shook her head, as if she were trying to avoid answering the question. "Badly."

"And what makes you say that?" he asked as he cocked his head to the side. "Why so pessimistic?"

She shook her head again. "I'm not being pessimistic, Jane, I'm being realistic. Take your hand off of me."

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"Jane, I'm warning you."

He just merely shrugged his shoulders, not seeming to realise how truly annoyed she was at him. It was a dangerous combination, for her to be angry with him as he held onto her elbow.

At his reluctance to unhand her, Lisbon's eyes narrowed almost dangerously. She moved back slightly, tugging her arm as if to try and get away from him once more. He still did not release her from his grip. Drawing her mouth into a thin line, Lisbon clenched her other hand into a fist and began to raise it. Jane would have noticed it if he had not been so focused on studying her face. When she lifted her clenched hand, that was when he finally realised that he really had ought to let go. Without giving him another chance to back away, she hit him squarely in the nose with her knuckles.

Jane instantly yelped and jumped back, bring his hand up to gently prod at his nose. It was turning red and Lisbon could see the blood begin to flow from his nostrils. In slight shock, he looked up at her.

"You hit me!" he said accusingly.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I told you so."

Without letting him put in another word, she turned away from him and started to walk away towards the bathroom. He was sure that her knuckles hurt, as for a small woman, she sure packet a punch.

She had told him that she already knew how this would all end. Though, he was not one hundred percent sure she was correct, he knew there was some shred of truth in her statement. And that she was being realistic. And pessimistic, too. Lisbon was only protecting herself, and Jane knew that he would have to gain her trust and affection.

Leaning into the nearby wall, he smiled at his thoughts about the first two steps of seduction, and he hoped that Teresa Lisbon would not be immune. He would first have to gain her trust, and then her affection. How he planned to gain both, he had no such idea, but he doubted they would be hard to come by.

He would have to do something out of character for her to see him in a different light, he decided. She would have to see a more honest and kind side of him in order to gain her trust. Though, it would be tough as to how he would be able to manage that.

Now, he needed a pack of ice.

~O~

Splashing some cold water in her face, Lisbon looked at her reflection. She hated how she could allow Jane to get to her, and that she had even thought about proceeding into the land of being the other woman. Hell, she should just shoot herself for possibility thinking of such actions! The man had a beautiful wife and daughter, and she would not be the one to screw that up.

Though, something told her that he had not given up. Nor would he anytime soon despite the fact that he had just become her human punching bag. Quite literally. Patrick Jane seemed like the kind of man who liked to get what he wanted, and absolutely hated being denied anything.

She jumped when she heard Martin bang on the bathroom door, calling for her to get a move on and go after a lead with Flores. Glancing at her reflection once more for good measure, she ensured that she was well composed and exited the bathroom and confirmed to Martin that she would indeed go with Flores.

"Women," she heard Martin mumble as he started to walk back to his office. He was most likely griping about women and their tendency to stay in the bathroom for a long period of time.

Well, in her defense, Simmons was far worse than she was! Especially if he had Thai food during a stakeout and then some sort of unhealthy junk food to top it all off. Though, he did not know that she knew about this. Simmons, that is, for his wife wouldn't approve of his gluttonous behaviour.

She dropped by the bullpen to see Flores holstering his firearm. Eyeing him for a second, she walked over to her desk and pulled her own out and started to place hers on her hip. While doing this, she ignored the feeling that someone was watching her. She didn't need to look around to try and see as to who was watching her. She already knew it was Jane.

"You ready, Lisbon?" Flores asked her as he picked up a couple of files and started handing them over to her.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Flores glanced down at her knuckles, which were still red, and only raised an eyebrow. He didn't ask any questions, but only snatched up the car keys and started to head down to the garage towards the vehicles.

As they started to walk out of the bullpen, Lisbon glanced over her shoulder and flashed Jane an annoyed look. He stared back at her as if he were trying to figure her out, and this unnerved her to a certain extent.

Taking a deep breath, she followed suite after Flores down to the CBI issue Suburbans and went off to follow some leads. And she hoped that, by some miracle, Jane was gone when she got back.

~O~

At the suspect's home, Lisbon felt uneasy. As soon as she and Flores had pulled up to the curb, the feeling set in and the hairs on the back of her neck stood tall. When they had walked up to the door, Lisbon was sure to keep her hand in close proximity to her firearm. Despite the reassuring looks that Flores kept on shooting her, she had a gut feeling that this place was unwelcome to law enforcement agents.

Flores took lead asking the suspect various questions, and she should be writing them down like he had asked, but she kept on looking around the area. Something was not right, she could feel it, though she could not put her finger on it.

"Where were you last night, Mr. Stevens?" Flores asked the burly man before them. "These are standard questions, sir."

Mr. Stevens shook his head, his eyes narrowing almost dangerously. "I didn't do nothing," he spat.

Flores nodded stiffly, "We're not saying that you did anything, Mr. Stevens. We're just asking you where you were last night."

The man before them shook his head again, not really liking the attention he was getting. Lisbon didn't feel unease with Stevens' attitude, but she didn't like he refused to cooperate with them. That was never a good sign, especially in a rather "ramshackle" neighbourhood as this was.

"I was here last night," Stevens finally said.

"Can anyone confirm that?"

Stevens shook his head and narrowed his beady eyes. "I was alone."

Flores drew his lips into a thin line and looked over at Lisbon. She grasped onto her pen tighter and shrugged at her colleague.

"What was your relationship to Russell Andrews?" Flores finally asked.

Stevens shrugged coldly. "Never heard of him before in my life."

At his reply, Flores narrowed his eyes. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Stevens," Flores said to the suspect and turned away, gesturing over his shoulder for Lisbon to follow. "Did you write anything down?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "No, I wasn't able to focus."

Flores nodded. "Yeah, this place has me feeling unsettled. I say we get out of here and just write a couple of things down for Martin."

Though Lisbon didn't really agree on that plan, she nodded in response. This place was creepy, and she wanted to get away from it as fast as she could.

As they were making their way back to the car, Lisbon jumped at the sound of something rustling in a nearby tree. She quickly turned her head in search of the cause and calmed down. She just saw a couple of pesky squirrels running about in a frisky manner. Mumbling something incoherent under her breath, she started back towards the SUV.

Just as her hand touched the handle, she heard it. She heard the sound of a powerful gun discharging from somewhere behind her and bullets lodging into the police vehicle. She jumped away and grabbed her gun from its holster, took aim, and started firing. She was not one hundred percent sure if she was even firing in the right direction, but it was better than nothing.

"Take cover!" Flores yelled at her from somewhere off to her left.

Blinking for a couple of seconds, she jumped sideways and began to run behind the SUV. She pressed her back up against it, her hands shaking as they clutched onto her firearm. Beside her was Flores, breathing heavily and bleeding from the upper arm.

"You okay?" she asked over the gunfire.

He only nodded, took in a deep breath and glanced around the car when the firing stopped for a few moments. "He's probably reloading the gun now. Call for backup!"

When Flores's teeth clenched, Lisbon grasped onto the door handle and wrenched the door open. She quickly fumbled for the police radio and pulled back, pressing the button and yelling into the police radio that shots were fired, and that they needed help.

The shots started up again as she started to climb out of the SUV. The glass broke above her, some of it flying out and hitting the back of her neck and hand. She yelped when the glass shards cut into her hand, and she bit her lip to prevent anyone from knowing that she had been hurt, albeit slightly.

The shooter paused for a couple of seconds, and then resumed. Lisbon wondered why for a little bit, but her thoughts were answered when a shot entered the upholstery beside her body. The shooter had been re-positioning his firearm so he could fire directly into the car.

Bracing her weight on his upper arms, despite the pain in her hand, Lisbon pushed off the seat and backwards out of the car door. She landed on the concrete road hard, her head slapping back. For a little bit under a second, her vision completely blacked out.

"LISBON!"

She felt a hand grab her upper arm and drag her off to the side. When her eyes started to open, she heard sirens quickly approaching in the distance. Relief flooded her and she looked at Flores, who was crouched over her. Here she could see his wound more clearly. It looked like he had been grazed by the bullet, but looked all right.

When the police arrived and surrounded the scene, Lisbon realised that her heart was beating erratically inside her chest. She already knew what she was experiencing; she knew she was having an adrenaline rush. Taking a deep breath, she let her body rest against the bullet hole-ridden SUV.

Everything became a blur after that.

~O~

When Jane had heard that shots had been fired, he decided that this would be the perfect opportunity for him to act like he cared. Well, in some sort of way he did care, but this was his chance to make it seem like he had different motives than he actually did.

He arrived at the scene with Martin and Simmons, his eyes scanning around for Lisbon. He saw her rather quickly, and was not surprised to see her wrapped in a blanket and looking from the decimated car to the house where he assumed the bad guys lived.

"Lisbon?" he called as he stepped out of the car. "Are you all right?"

Her eyes snapped towards him and she raised her eyebrows, quite surprised at his entrance. He had been around when shootouts happened, but never actually at them. Once hearing about them, he would stay tucked away safely at the CBI Headquarters.

"Jane?"

He came to stand close to her, his eyes raking over her frame. She shivered under his gaze and tried to pull the blanket ever her more tightly. Her hair was messed up, everywhere, actually. She had a rather rough looking scratch on her cheek and from what he could tell, one of her hands were bandaged.

"Are you all right?" he asked again, actually feeling some sort of concern at the appearance of her injuries.

Nodding, she loosened her grasp on the blanket. "Yeah, I'm fine," she looked over at the house and back at the car again. Apparently, she was still shocked as to what had just happened.

"And Flores?"

She whipped her head back in his direction and quirked her eyebrow. She seemed shocked that he had asked her about Flores. He would have been too, if he was not trying to seduce her.

"He'll be all right," she answered.

He nodded and looked at her for a couple of seconds when she continued. "The Stevens brothers killed Russell Andrews," she told him.

"Do we know why?" he asked, his eyes never leaving her.

She shook her head. "No, we don't know why."

Two days later, they figured out that Russell Andrews had unknowingly stumbled upon a drug deal. One that the Stevens brothers happened to have been involved with, and he hadn't stood a chance the moment his eyes had made contact with the senior brother.


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

October 30-31, 2002

Honestly Jane did not realise that Angela would have had such a severe reaction to him appearing at a crime scene during a firefight. She yelled at him, threw some of her favourite china around, and left the house for a few hours. A little after midnight, she stumbled into the house drunker than her brother had been after finding out about their engagement.

So, to pacify her, he stayed away from the California Bureau of Investigation for a couple of weeks. Martin was not too pleased to learn of this and resorted to calling Minelli to complain about his consultant not being available. Which meant that Minelli called shortly afterwards to demand as to why Jane had told Martin "no." Angela was rather pleased when Jane informed both law enforcers that he would be unable to help them for a couple of weeks, as his wife "needed" him.

Now Halloween was imminent, which meant that a lot of fun and sadistic murders were to happen soon. Also meaning that the CBI would be busy over the next couple of days, and so would Jane. He was quite happy about this, as he had always wanted to work a Halloween murder ever since he saw that criminal procedure special about a year ago. So, he was not surprised when his phone began to rang.

A day earlier, a murder had occurred in one of Leo Carrillo State Beach's sea caves. Albeit surprised that he had not received any news about this earlier, Jane quickly grabbed his suit jacket, kissed his wife on the cheek, and went on his merry way.

Due to it being at October's end, it was not warm at the beach. Jane was rather glad for his decision to bring his jacket as soon as he stepped out of his car and started scanning the area for Martin and the team. As usual, he spotted Simmons first.

Simmons, who appeared to be having a hard time walking around in the sand, looked very fatigued as he clutched his notepad and coffee close to his large frame. He was quite pleased to see Jane come up close to him, no doubt hoping that the case would be closed faster.

"Caucasian girl, Lauren Webb, nineteen, appears to have been strangled," Simmons began as Jane approached.

Jane peered over at the larger man. "Strangled? We're at a beach. It would be easier to drown her, would it not?"

Simmons nodded, "Yeah, that's what I said. But Martin said not to assume anything yet."

"Meh, Martin Schmartin." Jane waved him off and continued towards one of the sea caves. Simmons grunted and started after him, his breathing becoming more and more laboured.

Pausing, Jane looked over his shoulder at the heavy agent behind him. "Where's Lisbon?"

Simmons grunted again and squeezed his eyes shut. "She's still talking to the local law enforcement, I think."

Jane shrugged. "I think she is rather tired of that position, don't you agree?"

Nodding, Simmons started off towards the cave in an effort to get ahead of Jane. Smiling, Jane started to walk away from the sea caves and back towards where he saw a swarm of local law enforcement. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Simmons heave his shoulders upward in irritation.

~O~

The tip of her pencil went through the paper yet again and she had to reign in every semblance of self-control to keep from throwing the paper into the ocean. Of all the things she hated doing, talking with the local law enforcers was at the top of the list. It was right next to doing laundry at that seedy Laundromat a block from her apartment.

"Good morning, Lisbon!"

At the sound of that all-too familiar voice, Lisbon set her jaw and clenched her hand tighter around her pencil. She knew that Jane lived in Malibu, but was hoping that he would continue his personal time for a much longer duration than she knew possible.

"Ah, a little nipper out here, don't you agree?"

"Yes," she said in a low tone.

She heard Jane breathe out of his mouth. "Exactly. Want to grab a coffee?"

Pausing, she turned to look at the familiar blond man. He looked the same as he had since she had last seen him, minus the slight concern over the shootout she had been in that day. Though he did look sincere in treating her to coffee.

"You don't like coffee," she accused.

He shrugged his shoulders. "The coffee shop I'm talking about has tea, too."

Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her footing. "I thought you were very picky over your tea."

"I can make a couple of small expenses to my taste buds."

Lisbon leaned back a little and started to weigh the pros and cons of grabbing coffee with Jane. She was, in fact, chilled to the bone and wanted nothing more than a nice cup of coffee. Though, he probably had some sort of ulterior motive.

"No."

The corners of his mouth drooped in slight disappointment, but he backed away from her. She watched as he started back towards a huffing and puffing Simmons and she turned away to continue what she had previously been doing.

She finished speaking with the local law enforcers twenty minutes later and decided that a cup of coffee sounded nice. Flipping her notepad shut, she walked to one of the CBI's rented vehicles and drove off towards the nearest coffee shop. Much to her dismay, Jane was right when it came to the location of a decent coffee shop. But still, she was just happy to have been able to grab something warm and a medium-sized cookie before she returned to the crime scene.

Upon returning to the crime scene, Martin had arrived. He saw her immediately and ordered her to go with Simmons to the morgue. The medical examiner had found something strange after a closer inspection that needed immediate attention.

About fifteen minutes later, Simmons pulled up to the small morgue and parked the car. It had taken them awhile to find it, but they were both relieved as soon as it came into view. They flashed their badges at the door and stepped into the chilled room full of the dead. On one of the two tables lay the body of a girl, and around her were two men. One that appeared to be in his early sixties with greying hair above his ears and a large belly which caused the buttons to his coat to strain. The second man was Patrick Jane.

At the sound of the door closing behind them, both the medical examiner and Jane looked up. When Jane saw Lisbon, his lips curled upwards into a large smile.

"How'd you get in here, Jane?" Simmons asked as he stopped by the deceased girl's head.

Jane shrugged. "I flashed my card and said I was with the CBI."

As Lisbon came up at the opposite side of the table, away from Jane, he winked at her. At that, she knew that he had somehow manipulated the medical examiner. He probably had something on the elder man, that bastard.

Rolling her eyes, she moved them over to the supine body lying on the table, deep read marks prominent around the throat.

"Strangulation was not the cause of death," the medical examiner rasped.

Simmons blinked and looked over at Jane, who beamed back at him. Lisbon could not help but roll her eyes once more and make brief eye contact with the examiner. The medical examiner took in a small breath, coughed, and continued on with his evaluation.

"The cause of death was exsanguination."

At this, it was Jane's turn to blink. He stepped a bit closer to the body and leaned in. Lisbon smirked at his actions and crossed her arms over her chest with a sense of smug satisfaction that the infamous Patrick Jane was wrong. But then it prompted the question from everyone in the room, save for the medical examiner.

"How? There are only ligature marks around her neck," Simmons said as he gestured to the angry marks around the deceased's neck.

The medical examiner looked up and Lisbon could have sworn that she saw a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. She furrowed her brow and stepped a bit closer to the table, trying to see if she had missed anything.

Pushing back her hair from the side of her neck, the medical examiner pointed to two puncture marks parallel to the other. When she leaned in to get a closer look at the marks, she felt something brush up behind her and a chill moved up her spine. Her breath caught in her throat and she looked over to where Jane had been standing. At the sight of nothing before her, she was certain it was Jane behind her.

Without giving him any warning, she shifted her footing a bit and slammed her foot down on the toe-area of his shoes. His body jumped closer to hers for a second before jumping backwards as he yelped in the process. He hit the spare table near the one the murder victim's cold body lay.

"Are you all right, Jane?" Simmons asked, his eyebrow very much quirked with puzzlement.

Lisbon watched, with much satisfaction, as Jane gulped and nodded, shaking his foot in the most discreet way possible. She couldn't help it when the corners of her mouth started to turn upwards for a brief couple of seconds. Jane's eyes locked on with hers and her mouth immediately dropped back to its normal state. His expression looked almost dangerous, and not in a kind of violent way. It was the kind that made an unwanted shiver run down the column of her vertebrae.

"Superb," he said without taking his eyes off of Lisbon.

~O~

Jane's foot was still throbbing as he slowly limped towards his car. He should have known that if he had gotten too close to her too often, Lisbon would eventually show some form of violence towards him. And now his poor toes paid the price for his apparent lapse of common sense inside the morgue.

When his hand touched the cool metal of his car door handle, his cell phone began to chirp from the inside of his pocket. Pausing, he plucked it out and looked at the screen. Home it read in clear letters. Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the flap and held it to his ear.

"Hi, Ange, I'll be home for dinner. I promise."

When he did not hear Angela's voice on the other line immediately, he got a bit worried. But his fears went away once he heard Charlotte's voice clearly on the other line. "Daddy!"

"Charlotte!" He was very surprised to hear his daughter's voice on the other line. She should have been in school, as it was Thursday. What was Angela doing?

He took a deep breath and scratched a spot between his eyes. "Honey, why are you not at school?"

Without missing a beat, Charlotte rapidly started speaking on the other end. "Daddy, mommy is in bed! And she's really, really white!"

Jane blanched. Despite the fact that he and Angela had not been getting along as of late, he did not wish for her to become ill. "Is mommy sick?"

"She says her tummy hurts," Charlotte replied, static coming across from the other line. The little girl probably had the chord wrapped around her little fists and she talked to her father.

Taking in a deep breath, Jane tried to of what to do. Obviously he could not leave Charlotte home alone with an ill Angela, and the little girl had to go to school. "I'll be right there, honey."

"Okay daddy!"

Charlotte would be happy to see her father anyway. Whenever he was around, she would bounce around the house singing happy songs. Then she would come up and sit on his lap to tell him about her various academic "adventures" with her friends.

Hitting a button, Jane folded his phone back up and stuck it into his pocket. With a sigh, he started the car and headed back to his home, where he would assess Angela, give her some Tylenol, and take Charlotte to school.

~O~

Wrinkling her nose as she poured over the files, Lisbon flipped the piece of paper over once more. God she hated Halloween cases! The weirdos always decided to go to the extremes around this time of the year. And such cases have proved to be absolutely no different since becoming a part of the CBI.

From her little rickety chair in the set-up office, she gazed over the files she had been handed earlier. She watched Martin and Simmons escort a large, burly suspect towards one of the interrogation rooms. She wondered how they picked him up so quickly, but then again, he somehow resembled a vampire. Simmons probably asked around and mentioned the key word "vampire" to the right people.

Setting aside the papers, she stood and walked a few steps behind them. She would like to hear this interrogation, as in all of her years as a law enforcement worker, she has actually never dealt with a vampire case like this.

"I didn't do anything!" the man growled out as he was steered into a seat across from Simmons and Martin.

Martin looked up from the suspect to Lisbon and gestured with his head for her to go into the interrogation room. She nodded her affirmation, took a couple of steps, and found herself in the musk-scented room with the one-way glass.

"Malcolm Watts, I hear you're Malibu's vampire." Lisbon heard Martin say that.

Lisbon watched as Malcolm Watts' mouth broke out into a smile, and from where she stood, she could barely make out two fangs on his canines. Her eyes widened at the thought of how extreme some people get around Halloween.

Watts nodded. "Yes, that is me."

Martin narrowed his eyes and folded his hands together on the table. He looked over at Simmons, made a gesture, and looked back at Watts. Simmons reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a glossy picture of the murder victim, Lauren Webb.

"Do you know this woman?"

Watts straightened his spine and looked down at the table at the picture. He drew his mouth into a thin line and shook his head.

"No, I have never seen that girl in my life."

Martin smiled and Lisbon was quite baffled. She had never seen Martin smile at a suspect in her time working at the CBI. "You see, Mr. Watts, that is where we have a problem. We have a witness that says you were with Lauren an hour prior to her time of death."

"Well, I say you have an incompetent witness," Watts challenged venomously.

Lisbon leaned against the cool one-way glass as the interrogation continued on. She was surprised that Jane was not in the observation room along with her, but then again, she made it perfectly clear earlier that she wanted nothing to do with him.

The interrogation continued on with very little results. It was blatantly obvious that Malcolm Watts was somehow involved in the murder, but they had no proof in order to make an arrest. So, Martin let him go and instructed him not to go anywhere.

~O~

When Jane opened the door to his house, he immediately recognized the familiar messy head of blonde curls sitting on the couch watching, her backpack resting right next to her on the couch. She spun around and saw him enter the house, turned off the television and ran over to him.

"Daddy!"

He picked her up under her arms and hoisted her up. Grunting a bit in the process, he settled her on his hip. Honestly, he could not remember Charlotte ever being this heavy. The days just flew by and the kid just kept on growing up faster and faster each day.

"Mommy's upstairs."

Charlotte pointed up, towards the second level. Jane smiled, told her thank you, and kissed her on the nose. She squealed in delight at the attention her father was giving her and he carefully began to set her down.

Bending down, he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. "I will go check on mommy. Get ready, please," he told her.

She nodded and bounced over to the couch in an excited manner at the notion that her father would be the one taking her to school today. For a long time now she had wanted to show everyone her daddy.

Jane took one last look at his daughter before he started to head up the stairs. Once atop, he stopped by the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol and an empty glass. He filled the glass with cool water and walked into his and Angela's bedroom.

The scent of a sick person was almost immediate as Jane took in the silhouette of her body curled up on the bed. He walked over to it, placed the glass and bottle on the nightstand, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Placing his hand on where he suspected the location of her shoulder was, he put down pressure and leaned over to press a kiss to the exposed hair.

"Ange?"

She shifted underneath the blankets, mumbling something incoherent. Without waiting for her to say anything, he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. Swearing quietly, he realised that she had quite the fever, though he doubted it was anything serious.

"Angela," he tried again, "Can you please turn around?"

More mumbling was heard from underneath the blankets as he shifted into some sort of standing position. He took her shoulder and gently turned her over until she was lying on her back. Charlotte was right, Angela was very pale and looked like she had been ill for a few hours.

Propping up a couple of pillows behind her, Jane saw her eyes begin to crack open slightly. When he saw this, he picked up the glass of water and held it up to her lips. He took the back of her head in his hand and gently tipped it back, letting the cool water go into her mouth and down her throat. His actions caused her to groan and squeeze her eyes shut, but he shushed her and pulled the glass away.

Opening the Tylenol, he stuck a capsule into her mouth and picked up the water once more, pouring it down for a second time. Once he was confident that she had swallowed the pill, he pulled away slightly to gauge her expression.

"P-patrick," she said weakly, "What are y-you d-doing here?"

He leaned closer to her. "Charlotte called me, said you were sick."

Angela squeezed her eyes shut and let out a moan. Looking down, Jane noticed that her hands were tight around the sheet. Her stomach was hurting her quite badly, it seemed. He shifted uncomfortably and smoothed her hair down a bit.

"Do you want me to call the doctor?"

Despite the fact that he hated doctors, Angela was a bit more accepting towards them. She became this way when she got pregnant with Charlotte, knowing it would be better if she talked to them as the weeks had gone on.

Angela shook her head no and started to weakly snuggle back under the covers. Jane tried to help her, but she brushed off his assistance offers. He felt as if she had slapped him in the face, but she had been a little tense around him for a while now, so it was not a new development.

"The Tylenol is on the bedside table," he said and kissed her warm cheek.

Standing up from the bed, he quietly left the room and made a mental note to come back in a couple of hours to check on her. He moved down the stairs and saw Charlotte sitting eagerly on the floor in front of the door, her backpack right next to her once more.

"Did you fix mommy?" she asked, her bright blue eyes twinkling.

He shook his head. "No, but I'm working very hard to," he told her and picked up her bag. "Are you ready?"

Charlotte nodded and held out her hand for him to hold. He grasped it in his much larger one and opened the door as the little girl happily chatted about her school.

~O~

"Where's Jane? I've been calling him for the past thirty minutes!"

Lisbon squeezed her eyes shut and popped an aspirin as Martin continued to ask everyone questions about Jane's whereabouts. When he had asked Simmons, the large agent had told Martin that she may know, due to the fact that they were always around the other. And the only reason why they were constantly around the other was because Jane was like an annoying mosquito that had zoned in on her.

She shook her head. "I don't know, sir. I haven't seen him since the morgue."

In his frustration, Martin threw his hands up in the air and walked away, mumbling about complaining to Minelli. Martin stopped by the door and shot over his shoulder for her to find Jane and bring him back to the make shift headquarters. Somehow, Lisbon knew she would be given the job for this and she vowed to make Jane's life hell for the remainder of this case.

Standing up from her seat, Lisbon sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was go on a full-fledged manhunt for Jane, so, she refused to do such. From his file, she had his street address. And like every house in Malibu, she was visualizing a beautiful home on the beach. Something bright and cheerful to compliment Jane's sunny personality and make her stare in sheer envy that she would never be able to afford something even close to it.

Lisbon walked over to a laptop and sat down behind it. Powering it up, she entered in her password and began to search for the file that contained Jane's personal information. It took a bit for her to find it, but once she did she was surprised to find it almost empty. There were only dates of birth, marriage, and when he joined the CBI. There were some details of his physical description, like height, hair and eye colour, and weight. Then she found his address.

Quickly writing it down on a piece of paper, Lisbon stood up and left the building. She got in one of the vehicles, the one with the navigator, and drove off in the direction of the Jane residence.

The closer she got to the Jane home, the more beautiful the scenes got around her. At this point, she knew she was jealous of the fraud. He was able to screw people over for a living and live in a place so beautiful that it should be illegal.

She made one last turn into a drive that was covered by neatly trimmed trees. Everything was green to the point where it was breathtaking. Leaning further into her seat and clutching the wheel tighter, she touched down on right pedal and drove on further. She went around one last curve and stopped the car. Putting it in park and killing the engine, she stepped out of the car to see Jane's sedan sitting in the driveway.

Obviously it was no crime to be home, but she knew Martin would throw a fit to learn that Jane had been home since the morgue. Which is why she'd tell him of this news once she got Jane to come with her to the makeshift CBI headquarters.

"Daddy!"

Lisbon's eyes snapped towards the door at the high-pitched sound of a little girl. She knew Jane had a daughter, but never thought of her to be truly real until now for some odd reason. Taking a step further out of the car, she shut the door behind her and moved until she stood in front of the vehicle.

Just as she had done this, a little girl with bouncing blonde curls came through the door, a large pink backpack about to swallow her up. She had a bright smile on her face, one that was clearly her father's. When she looked up from the little girl, she saw Jane step through the door, keys in one hand and a little brown paper bag in the other.

Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest and smirked at the sight. She was used to seeing the lecherous Patrick Jane, not the doting father. Though, she stopped smirking when she remembered that she had had dinner with him one night.

"Daddy, who's that?"

The little girl was pointing at her now, her bright blue eyes staring in alarm. Jane paused and looked up from his keys as he locked the door. Once his eyes landed on Lisbon, a large grin broke out across his features.

He leaned down closer to his daughter, his smile still in tact. "That, Charlotte, is Agent Lisbon."

Little Charlotte waved with much enthusiasm at Lisbon. She jumped off the last step and ran over to her, stopping short of about a foot. With a large smile akin to her father's Charlotte Jane held out her hand. "My name's Charlotte Anne Jane!"

Lisbon bent down a little and shook the little girl's hand. Giving her a warm smile and a slight hand squeeze, she replied. "My name's Teresa."

Charlotte quirked her eyebrow and looked over at her father. "Daddy, I thought you said her name was Agent Lisbon!"

Jane came up to his daughter and sighed. "Agent is her title, like mister and misses," he explained, "And Lisbon is her last name."

"Agent Teresa Lisbon?" Lisbon nodded at Charlotte's implied question. "Are you daddy's friend when he works with the police?" she asked at the sight of Lisbon's gun and badge with much curiosity.

Lisbon gulped a little bit and looked over at Jane. His smile had faltered some, but not much. She knew that she couldn't tell the little girl that she loathed her father at present, even though that was how she felt.

"Yes, I'm your daddy's friend at the police." She shot Jane a look, one that asked him to get Charlotte into the car so she could speak with him privately. He shrugged his shoulders, tapped Charlotte, and gestured for the little girl to go into the car. When she protested, he promised that he would tell her all about what they said and that he would buy her an ice cream on the way home from school. Accepting this, Charlotte went into the car.

"Where have you been, Jane?" Lisbon hissed.

Jane looked around dumbly and pointed at the house behind him. At this, Lisbon rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. His smile fading, he dropped his hand to his side and looked over at the car, seeing Charlotte pressed up against the window.

"She called me," he began, "To tell me that Angela, my wife, is sick."

Her anger fell apart a little bit. "Is she going to be okay?"

Jane nodded. "I'm sure, but I need to take Charlotte to get to school." He paused and looked over Lisbon's face, and she was quite thankful that his gaze did not drop below her jawline. "Did Martin send you?"

Reclosing her arms over her chest, Lisbon nodded without saying anything. She knew that was all he needed to know, especially when he smiled at her.

He leaned in closer to her and she pulled away. "Tell Martin that I will be in within the hour. I need to take her to school." He pulled away from her and walked over to his car. Getting in, he looked at the backseat, smiled, and told Charlotte something. The little girl grew instantly happy as he started the car.

Narrowing her eyes at him, Lisbon got back into her car, started it, and slowly made her way out of the beautiful drive. Still envious that he owns the home and not her, the fraud.

~O~

Jane arrived at the makeshift headquarters about thirty minutes after he had last seen Lisbon. Just as he had walked in, he saw Simmons and Martin escorting a suspect towards an interrogation room. When Martin saw him, he made a gesture with his head to go behind the one-way glass to observe. With a simple raise of his hand, Jane confirmed that he would be able to do this without any problems.

Opening the door, Jane saw with much amusement, that the suspect had a bloody nose. Well, a bloody nose was more so an understatement. He looked like someone had punched him between the nose and teeth.

Leaning on one side as he pressed against the glass, his gaze moved over Simmons' and Martin's knuckles, already knowing that he would have found them both void of any cuts or bruises. It could have been Flores, he thought for a second, but he then remembered that the man was in Sacramento with a few days off. So, that only left Lisbon, the pocket rocket.

Behind him, he heard the door open and close. "Did you put ice on that?" he asked without looking over his shoulder.

He heard the rustling of a plastic bag and an intake of breath. At this, he looked over his shoulder to see Lisbon walking closer to the one-way glass, a plastic bag full of melting ice placed over her knuckles.

"Working on it," she grunted. "The bastard went for my neck."

Nodding, Jane looked at the suspect more closely. Sure enough, as he spoke, Jane could see one 'fang' peaking out from his gums. "Vampire."

More rustling was heard beside him. "More like a vampire wannabe," she sighed.

He turned to her fully and glanced at her knuckles. They were swollen, red, and cut. He then looked up at her face, seeing her hide the pain well, and then looked back at her knuckles.

"You do pack a punch, you know," he told her, smiling to lighten up the mood.

Lisbon shook her head and smiled. It was a start, he decided. When he turned to look back out through the glass towards the suspect, he saw Lisbon turn her head to look at him. He thought about returning her gaze, but decided against it. He kept his gaze forward and deduced that the suspect was guilty. He really did not need any proof, other than the fact that this man was beyond creepy and fully capable of committing murder without blinking an eye. Though, they would have to find evidence of this first.

~O~

Everyone worked on the case for the remainder of the day and into the early hours of the morning. Well, everyone sans Jane. He had left around three-thirty in the afternoon to go pick up his daughter from school, but not before telling an irked Martin that it would be highly unlikely that he would return later. Lisbon would be lying if she thought that exchange had been a boring sight to see, as she rather liked how Jane was able to stir up her superior.

The next morning, Jane returned a little after nine in the morning. Once more, he had had to take Charlotte to school and tend to an ill Angela. Simmons was understanding with this, Martin was not. And Lisbon knew that it bothered Jane to some extent that their superior wasn't so understanding at the moment.

By noon, they had caught a break in the case. A witness, who had been at the scene during the murder, had accidentally taken a picture of the murderer with his new digital camera. Bryan Elkins, that was the name of the witness, was shocked to learn of this, but became very excited that he was able to help. Especially because he had heard of the victim, Lauren Webb, a couple of times before and found it horrible that she had been murdered.

After three hours of searching for Alex Buchannon, the murderer, they finally found him within his musky home. There was no electricity, nor was there any evidence of it, and was poorly maintained. Lisbon found this a waste of a home and was glad that they were able to finally wrap up the case.

For two hours, Buchannon had started at them with much menace. He hadn't said anything to them nor did he even move a muscle. Everyone tried to get a reaction from him and everyone was unsuccessful. Until, of course, Jane riled him up. It wasn't much, but Jane twisted things around, insulted him and his "coven" a couple of times and before they knew it, they were all rushing in to subdue Buchannon. That was enough of a confession for them all, and they all thanked Jane. Even Lisbon herself gave him a smile.

As they all left the makeshift CBI headquarters, all was well.

~O~

"Daddy," Charlotte whined, "Come on!"

Jane smiled when she took his hand and began to tug on it with all her little might. All traces of not being able to go trick-or-treating with her mother had vanished once six in the evening appeared on the kitchen clock and after he had made the promise that he would take her.

He stepped out of the kitchen and looked down towards his daughter. She stood by the door, her small hands clutching onto an orange jack-o-lantern specifically for carrying all the goodies she would receive tonight.

"All right, all right," he said and picked up his keys from the small table. He opened the door and gestured for Charlotte to walk out first. "Ladies first, Milady."

Charlotte giggled as she skipped through the door and down the stairs. Jane smiled and watched as his little girl stopped short a few metres away from the stairs, anticipation keeping her from standing still.

When he locked the door, he stopped when he heard the sound of tires coming up the drive and stopping. He turned around to see a familiar brunette stepping out of the car, two boxes of pizzas in her hands.

"Lisbon?"

"Agent Lisbon!"

Lisbon smiled at the sight of seeing Charlotte dressed up as a little princess. Covered in pink from head to toe with sparkly pink shoes. She looked up from Charlotte and towards Jane, who was making his way down the stairs of his home.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

Lisbon gestured to the pizzas. "I got you guys pizza. Because your wife's sick."

Jane smiled and took a pizza box from her and started back to the house, despite Charlotte's protest. Over his shoulder, he told her he would be right back and that she is to stay put.

Letting her into his home, he led Lisbon to the kitchen. He set one box on the marble counter and she placed the other right beside. Slowly, she turned to face him, her eyes avoiding his.

"How's your wife?" she asked.

He shrugged. "She's doing better than yesterday."

Lisbon did not say anything else; she just put her hands in her pockets, caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and started towards the door, mumbling a soft "goodbye" while she was at it.

"Uh, Lisbon." At the sound of her name, she stopped. "Would you like to go with Charlotte and I? Trick or treating, that is."

Looking over at him, Lisbon began to protest. Knowing that she would most likely decline without really thinking it through, he shushed her and informed her that she ought to go with them. Overall, it did not take much to convince her to go. Just that he was quite sure that Charlotte would love it if she were to go with them and eat the pizza when everything was done.

At the mention of Charlotte, Lisbon could not bring herself to decline. Especially when the little girl had entered the room, heard that Lisbon may be going with them, and begged for her to tag along.

By the end of the night, Jane felt like he had made a rather stupid decision to allow Lisbon to interact with Charlotte.


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

November 7, 2002

Angela's illness had left her body three days after Halloween. Though still, weak from it, she found no difficulty in yelling at her husband for allowing Lisbon to go out with her daughter. Charlotte, of course, had rattled on and on about how much she just loved Agent Lisbon and wanted to see her again soon. As soon as that statement left her mouth, Jane knew he would not only get an earful from his wife that night, but also be spending the rest of the week on the couch.

Now, a full eight days later, Jane found himself yet again on the road back to Los Angeles. Martin called him the evening before to ask for his assistance. Originally, he declined Martin's request, but agreed when Angela walked into the room. He was tired of the tension and desired to get as far away as humanly possible.

From what Martin told him, the case was Red John related. And they were all hoping that it was a copycat. After all, there had been two so far. They have not seen an actual Red John murder in over a year. Something they were all quite glad about. Jane had, after all, received the most marks during the last two copycat murders.

Stopping at the curb, he put the car in park and cut the engine. Taking in a quick, deep breath he opened the door and started on his way towards the home that sat before him, surrounded by yellow tape. He flashed his identification to the police officer, waited a moment, and walked under the tape.

A well-rested Flores stood on the edge of the tape, talking to the local law enforcement. Jane gave him a slight nod before continuing on, taking a moment to contemplate Lisbon's whereabouts. His answer was found when she walked through the front door that belonged to the house, her face solemn.

"Jane," she said as she gave him a curt nod.

He drew his lips into a thin line and tipped his head towards her. "Red John?"

Lisbon nods again but doesn't look at him. She continues on towards the CBI vehicles that sit alongside the curb. Jane takes one glance over his shoulder in her direction before he continues through the door and towards the master bedroom. He stops at the doorway, his eyes immediately falling on the sight of a red smiley face.

A sense of dread came up Jane's spine as he continued to watch the red smiley as it stared back at him. Upon seeing the daunting smile, he felt as if the room had dropped ten degrees. And immediately at that point he knew that this was the real Red John and not the copycat that everyone wished.

"What's your take on this, Jane?" Martin asked as he came up to Jane.

Jane swallowed. "It's him. It's the real Red John."

~O~

Leaning her head against the tinted car window, Lisbon took in a deep breath. This was her first ever Red John related case. In the media she had heard about the notorious serial killer, but she never thought that she would actually see that highly publicized smiley face in person.

"You all right?"

Lisbon opened her eyes to see Flores standing across from her, a notepad and pen still in his hand from questioning the local law enforcement. Pure concern was evident in her eyes and Lisbon was quite grateful. Though, she still wouldn't tell him what that the crime scene actually fazed her.

"Yeah." She nodded at him. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Flores tipped his head to the side. "You sure?"

Lisbon nodded her head and crossed her arms over her chest, still trying to shake the thought of Red John from her thoughts. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Smiling, Flores placed a caring hand on her shoulder. "It's my first Red John case, too. The last two were just copycats. Well, at least I think this one is the real one. It just feels…like it." Then he left.

For some reason, Lisbon found his admission comforting, that she was not the first one seeing a Red John case. Or what they were thinking was a Red John case. Pushing her head back until it thudded against the window and closing her eyes, Lisbon took in a deep breath. She was trying to reign in every ounce of possible calmness.

"Teresa?"

At the sound of her name, her eyes snapped open. She did not need to look at the person who called her her name, as she knew it was Jane, but she looked at him nevertheless. There was something rather comforting with his presence, and she wanted to shoot herself in the foot for thinking that way.

"Are you all right?"

She had expected the question. "Yeah, Jane, I'm fine."

"Women always say that," he said as he made his way to stand beside her, against the vehicle. "And believe me, you are no different."

She looked over her shoulder at him and glared, not really thrilled with his comment. Her look didn't cause him to falter, much to her dismay. Instead he grinned back at her, but she could tell that his eyes were still curious. Curious about how she was feeling due to this being (obviously) her first Red John case.

"Is it really him?" she asked, as she looked forward again.

From beside her, he nodded. "Yes, it's Red John."

"No copycat?"

"No copycat," he replied.

His confirmation of her suspicions caused some sort of unease to travel up her spine. After quite some time, the notorious Californian serial killer was still active.

"Do you think we'll catch him this time?" She didn't like asking these types of questions, but she was genuinely curious. She wanted to say to herself that yes, they would capture Red John. But she knew that would prove to be false. And that this case would become joined with the old, dusted Red John case file.

Before he answered, Lisbon turned and looked at Jane. She wanted to look into his eyes as he was about to say his next statement. To be sure that he was telling her the truth, as she knew that liars always had a hard time doing so whilst looking into the eyes of their victim.

"No, he will not be caught this time."

His answer was honest and not even close to being opinionated. It was if he could see into the future, and in all honesty she didn't like that. If he had phrased it in a different manner, then she would have taken to his opinion much better.

"You don't know that," she challenged, narrowing her eyes.

Jane glanced at her briefly in a rather haphazard manner before he continued on. "Yeah, I do."

Shaking her head and stepping away from the vehicle, Lisbon placed her hands on her hips. "No, Jane, you have no proof that we won't catch Red John."

"Martin told me they only found the body, a woman sliced to bits, and a bloody smiley face on the wall. No other evidence." Jane's eyes never left hers. "Even if the CBI searches for suspects as to who would possibly kill this woman, they will not find him. The CBI has been looking for four years, Teresa. And I suspect this year to be no different."

Anger started to bubble up within Lisbon's very being. She had to reign in every sort of control to prevent herself from doing him any physical harm out in the open. At a crime scene, no less.

She missed her opportunity to do him any harm when he pushed off from the CBI vehicle and headed back towards the house. Lisbon contemplated calling after him, but stopped herself and instead glared at the back of his head.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she closed her eyes and let the rest of the day completely wash over her. She allowed everything to blur over as she accepted the knowledge that Jane was right and that they weren't going to find any incriminating evidence against Red John.

A blur of a day it was. And a rather annoying one, too.

~O~

Nightfall came too quickly for Jane's liking. He knew that Angela expected him home within the next couple of hours so that he could be home in time to give Charlotte her goodnight story. And for his baby girl's sake, he would make sure to be home on time.

Turning a corner, Jane was surprised to see a familiar CBI vehicle parked outside a small motel. He was not surprised, though, as the CBI preferred dinky little motels to house their agents in rather than nice hotels.

Going on a guess, he smiled and he slowed down the car to pull into the parking lot. He parked beside the CBI vehicle and cut the engine. Opening the door and stepping out of the car, he carefully shut the door and made his way towards the motel. Ahead of him, he could see light seeping through the parted curtains.

Still acting on his guess, he stepped closer to the curtains and gazed briefly into them. Inside, he saw Simmons asleep on one bed and Flores watching television on the other. Taking a deep breath, and rather glad that his guess prove to be correct, he rapped his knuckles against the door.

Within a couple of seconds, the door opened to reveal Flores. The man was dressed in plaid pajama bottoms and a white shirt. He also smelled a bit like after shave.

"Jane!" he said, surprised.

Jane smiled, not even trying to look around Flores. "Flores, how are you?"

He really had not had a chance to ask him how he was since he took some time off. And throughout the day he really saw very little of Flores after the crime scene.

Flores nodded. "I'm doing all right. What brings you here?"

Shrugging, Jane gave him a fake smile. "I was on my way home and saw your car." He gestured behind him at the dark Suburban parked beside his own car. "And decided to see if anyone was here."

Looking over his shoulder, Flores furrowed his brow. "A lot of people drive Chevy Suburbans, Jane."

"Meh."

Giving a slight chuckle, Flores looked over Jane's shoulder and then back at Jane. "Lisbon's room is the next one on your left."

Jane looked over at Flores, his eyebrow furrowed in mock curiosity. "Who says I'm looking for Lisbon?"

"You're always looking for Lisbon."

"Goodnight, Flores."

Chuckling softly, Flores began closing the door. "Goodnight, Jane."

Once the door was closed, Jane turned and looked down the hall to his left. Inside his chest, he felt his heart start to beat erratically. Why did he suddenly feel like a young man again, trying to muster up all the courage to ask Sarah Accord if she wanted to go on the Ferris Wheel with him?

Rubbing his palms together and shaking away all rational thought, Jane walked over to her room, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. It did not take long for him to hear the door become unlocked and wrenched open.

"Hi, Jane, what do you want?"

He was surprised by what Lisbon said, but quite grateful that she did not start trying to immediately kill him. "I was in the neighbourhood," he said simply.

Nodding, Lisbon looked over her shoulder in the room and back at him, her lip now being gnawed on between her teeth. She was nervous, for some odd reason. Jane took a small step back to look at her appearance, and almost smiled when he saw her in an oversized T-shirt. So large that it looked like it consumed her.

"I heard you talking to Flores," she started. "And he's right, you do seem to always be looking for me."

Jane smiled. "Don't flatter yourself, Teresa."

"Oh, I'm not! I just know that what Flores said is true. That wherever I go, you seem to follow. Why?"

Leaning in closer, Jane could smell a soft scent of cinnamon and vanilla. His eyes nearly slipped shut, but he forced them to stay open upon seeing Lisbon's green eyes gazing back at him.

"Because you are an engaging woman, Teresa."

She crossed her arms in a protective manner over her body. "And because you deserve to have a man's attention."

"Even a married one's?" she countered.

Jane shrugged. "Someone has to."

Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him. "No, someone doesn't have to."

He leaned in even closer to her. "Yes, Teresa, someone has to."

"Well, I'll just wait on them."

Jane merely shook his head to refute what she was trying to tell him. He did not agree with her selling herself short and saying that she would just wait one someone else. No, not when he was trying so hard.

Before him, Lisbon shifted her stance and started to reach for the edge of the door to pull closed. Jane took another step forward, to insure that his foot was in the doorway, and he leaned in closer to her.

"Jane…."

He braced his hand on the doorframe and leaned in until his nose brushed up against hers. At this contact, he heard her breath catch in her throat and felt her stiffen before him. He leaned even further and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before he pulled back to gauge her reaction to his close proximity.

Jane watched as Lisbon's eyes drifted shut, and he felt dread creep into his being. She did not like how far he had went, and he felt somewhat guilty.

Mumbling a soft apology, he started to turn away from her. Just as he had gotten a few centimetres away from her, he felt her small hand wrap around his elbow and turn him back to her. He paused to look into her eyes, surprised to see a look of curiosity visible on her features.

Softly, she moved forward, her hand reaching up to brush down the side of his cheek. "How do you do it?" she asked. "Con people."

Jane stiffened, not expecting her to ask such question. But she knew what he was, and he decided that he ought not to lie about it. She was not actually asking him how, but more so why. "I do it to survive."

"Why not something else?"

She started to move closer to him after her question until he felt her breath brush against his skin. From where she stood, he could feel the alluring warmth radiating from her skin.

Taking her hand carefully in his, he looked into her eyes. "Because I am unable to do anything else."

She shook her head. "No," she said.

Smiling weakly at her, he squeezed her hand and was about to let go when she tightened her grip. Pausing his movements, he looked down at their joined hands and back up at her. Lisbon smiled back at him, this time she appeared more haggard than she had in a long time.

He did not know what it was. It was either her tired smile, the complexity of the Red John case still swirling in his overactive mind, his desire for her, or his desire to just drift away from Angela. But he did not know what fueled him to bend down and capture her lips in his.

It was a brief, closed-mouth kiss. It didn't last very long nor did it go beyond that. It was very chaste and simple. And yet, it felt as if everything had stopped. It was like those corny romance novels that his clients sometimes spoke about.

When he pulled away from her, he was speechless. As was she. Her chest was heaving up and down, and he could tell that she was nervous.

"Goodnight, Teresa," he said.

Lisbon nodded. "Goodnight."


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

November 11, 2002

Stepping out of the steamy shower, Lisbon reached for and wrapped a thin towel around her body. Taking a couple of steps on the slippery tile floor, she rubbed the fog coating off the mirror and took in her reflection. Bags and dark circles lay underneath her eyes as if wanting to tell the world about her lack of sleep the last few days.

She blamed Patrick Jane, of course.

Ever since he kissed her a few nights ago, Lisbon couldn't help but think of it again and again. And sometimes she caught her mind working on elaborate and extremely inappropriate scenarios that had everything to do with Jane. She wanted to shoot him. Multiple times.

Groaning and running her fingers through her wet hair, she started back towards her bedroom to change into her work clothes. Any minute now she was expecting a call from Martin (or possibly even Simmons) to tell her that they had a case. For some odd reason it always happened either in the middle of the night, when she was in the shower, or just as she was exiting the shower. It seemed that the bastards just kept on killing each other and never rested for a second.

As she was pulling on a pair of blue jeans, that's when she heard the shrill cry of her cordless phone in the kitchen. Wrestling her pants over her hips, she ran as fast as she could into the kitchen, nearly tripping over the laundry pile that had accumulated over the last couple of weeks.

Just when her hand wrapped around the phone to take it from its cradle, the ringing stopped and her answering machine started up. Groaning in complete utter frustration at technology, Lisbon finished fastening her pants and slowly trudged back to her room as she listened.

"You've reached Teresa Lisbon. I can't come to the phone right now, so please leave a message. Thanks."

Beep.

"Lisbon, we have a case. Please report to the Tower Bridge now."

Sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose, Lisbon continued on her way to her bedroom to finish getting dressed. Once done, she quickly tied her hair back with an elastic, grabbed her gun and badge, and grabbed her boots. She left her apartment in promptly and started off towards the Tower Bridge.

This was going to be one hell of a day. She could feel it in her bones.

~O~

It was a little after noon when Jane walked into the bullpen. He was tired, kind of cranky, and wanting to solve this case as soon as possible. Mostly because he just did not feel up to par with working on a case at the moment. He did, however, feel like drinking a hot cup of tea and taking a nice nap. Preferably in that order too, as both would hopefully get his mind off Lisbon for just a mere moment. Even though, in all actuality, he did not wish to stop thinking about her.

Smiling to himself, he continued on towards his destination. Recalling what Lisbon's lips felt like beneath his when they kissed a few days earlier. He remembered their feel - silky - and wished for nothing more than to experience it once more. Though, he would like to experience another kiss with her that would last much longer and that would involve a lot more bodily contact.

Simply shrugging his shoulders, Jane started back to thinking about tea and naps. Both sounded lovely, especially if his dreams would be visited by a specific brunette.

"Jane! There you are!"

Well, the tea and nap would surely have to come later.

Simmons was coming up to him from the other side of the bullpen. Drawing his lips into a thin line, Jane gave him a slight nod and tried to make his way over to the empty desk that, metaphorically speaking, had his name on it.

"Good afternoon, Simmons."

"Where've you been?"

Jane paused for a second over the desk and turned on his heel over to look at the larger agent. Studying Simmons for a second, Jane came to the staggering conclusion that something had happened while he was on his way to Sacramento. Something…negative.

"What happened?"

"Flores is dead. Lisbon's critical." Jane's gaze immediately snapped to Simmons' eyes, his heart stopping for a second.

Jane shifted his footing and tried to remain calm. "What happened?" he asked.

"The murderer turned out to be one of our initial suspects." Simmons took a deep breath. "He said he wouldn't go to prison."

"Simmons!"

Nodding, Simmons continued. "He decided he wanted to kill himself rather than go to prison! And that he 'ought to leave this world with a bang.' He had a bomb strapped to his chest!" Pausing, Simmons exhaled deeply. "When she and Flores saw it, Lisbon tried to get the bystanders away and Flores tried to talk him out of it."

When those words left Simmons' lips, Jane started walking in the direction of the elevators. Simmons started following him, his words not stopping. "Flores died immediately." His breath hitched in his throat. "Lisbon got blown several feet away."

Nodding quickly, Jane pressed the button down on the elevator for it to go down. When it did not arrive quick enough, Jane hit the button several more times. As he stepped into the elevator, he felt his stress levels begin to rise rapidly. The whole ride down to the first floor rendered him completely exhausted and he was dreading the ride to the hospital.

He vaguely remembers Simmons telling him that he would drive. All he can remember is how long the drive is from the CBI Headquarters to the hospital. And the thundering beat of his heart inside his chest.

~O~

When Jane had purchased his plane ticket earlier that day, he bought a round-trip one. He was to leave Sacramento for Malibu in mid-afternoon the next day. Now, as he sat in the white waiting room of a hospital, he came to the obvious conclusion that he would have to call Angela within the next two or three hours to break the news to her. That there was no way in hell that he was going home.

He knew she would understand to an extent that an agent had been killed and that he wanted to stay around (money-making opportunities). But he knew she would not like it if she knew that Lisbon was down and that that was his main reason to stay behind.

Even after five hours of sitting on the uncomfortable wooden bench in the white waiting room of the hospital, he knew with every bone in his body that he would refuse to leave until Lisbon was awake and doing much better than she was. From what he heard, extensive damage was down to her body due to shrapnel. Mostly her back. From what he heard, shrapnel was what usually killed people in bombings.

From his seat on the little bench, he watched as Anita Flores walked into the room, two small children wrapped around her legs demanding to see their father. She was near-hysterical and Jane knew that he had to help ease her pain.

"Missus Flores?" he called from his seat.

Her mascara was running down her cheeks as she turned to look at him. There was so much pain evident in her eyes that Jane felt guilt creep up his spine for a moment. "My name's Patrick Jane."

At the sound of his name, Anita Flores' eyes widened and she nearly fell back. She had, apparently, heard of him. And she also apparently believed him to be a psychic.

"Mister Jane!" she exclaimed. "C-can you tell me something? Anything?"

When he nodded, she looked down at her two little boys and told them something in Spanish. She probably said something along the lines of "stay here" when both boys nodded and moved over to take a look into the fish tank.

Shakily, she sat down beside Jane on the bench. Before she could protectively pull her hands into her lap, Jane took one of her hands into his and gave her a light squeeze. Giving her a small smile, he began.

"He died saving bravely, Anita."

Anita nodded and he continued. "When he was trying to stop the murderer, all he could think of was you. And the kids."

At the mention of her two boys, Anita looked over her shoulder at her sons as they excitedly pointed to one large fish. "And now." He took a shaky breath. "He wants me to tell you that he loves you. He loves you all and wishes for you not to grieve over him."

Anita's hand grasped onto Jane's tighter, as if this would give her a closer connection to her deceased husband. "Juan wants you to know that he will always love you, Anita."

Watching Anita completely fall apart before him, Jane slowly pulled back from her. Looking away from her crying form, he asked one of the nearby nurses for a box of tissues, knowing that Anita would need them.

The two boys, now seeing their mother crying, began to as well. Knowing that was all they could do in the midst of the confusion. And Jane sat there in a world of pain and suffering.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall and kept his hands firmly on his thighs. He waited, for a minimum of twenty minutes, before it all stopped. Anita eventually gathered her two boys and left the hospital. Once they were gone, the hospital returned to its normally noisy state.

And Jane felt the remainder of his energy quickly fade away.

~O~

It was eight o'clock in the evening when Jane awakened to Minelli calling his name. As he readjusted himself, he looked around the room to see Martin and Simmons standing beside him. The three of them looked extremely haggard.

"They're letting visitors in now, Jane," Minelli said to him.

Nodding (and wincing at the movement), Jane stood up. Giving them all a false smile, he started to walk past them when Minelli called out to him once more.

"She's in a coma." Those words alone made Jane pause.

Turning back to look at the three men, Jane began to ask the question, but stopped when it was answered. "If she were awake now, she would be in excruciating pain. The doctors thought it best to keep her in a coma for the next few days."

Taking in the information, Jane rubbed his chin pensively. "So, her coma is medically induced?" Minelli nodded. "When will they bring her out of it?"

Martin stepped forward a little bit, as if he were trying to take on a little more control. "They think about three to four days. Give or take."

Nodding, Jane started back towards the hospital room he had known since the beginning to be holding Lisbon. He thought about calling Angela before he walked in, but decided against it. Instead he paused for a second, smiled, and thanked the three men before his hand touched the handle and pushed down.

Swinging it open, Jane took a step in. A couple of feet in and around the small corner was all it took before he saw Lisbon's small body wrapped in white sheets. It made him happy to see that she was breathing on her own.

He pulled a chair up to the bed and sat himself down in it. When he was somewhat level with her, his gaze roamed the entire length of her for any visible injuries. He saw two cuts on her face: one on her cheek and another along her hairline. Both had bruises forming around them. Then his gaze fell down to where her neck and showers met; there he saw one abrasion that looked like she had slid along the concrete road as she fell. He then looked down the length of her arms, happy to see only a couple of cuts where shrapnel had appeared to have entered her body. Her hands, though, were bandaged. He assumed that, much like the abrasion earlier, she had fallen to the concrete and badly scratched her hands.

Just by an initial sighting, Jane would say that Lisbon did not require a hospital. He would have said that if he had not known that she was not facing the bomber head-on like Flores had been. That is why the damage done to her front was minimal.

Sighing, Jane fished his cell phone out of his jacket and flipped it open. He dialed a familiar number and held the phone to his ear. Angela picked up the phone after two rings and Jane told her of the day's events. When he got to the part where he had to tell her that Lisbon was in the hospital, he could not help but watch the petite woman's still frame the entire time. And the entire time he watched her, he felt his heart constrict in an unfamiliar fashion.


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

November 14, 2002

Today was the day.

Jane knew that after three days, Lisbon would be completely weaned off of the drugs that have been keeping her asleep. The very notion that he would be seeing her awaken raised his (and everyone else's) spirits. And by the massive forest of flowers, balloons, plush toys, and cards, he would say that a lot of people wanted to see her awake.

"Excuse me for just a second," Simmons said as he left the room.

Smiling, Jane tipped his head and waved a little bit. He knew that the older man would no doubt be on his way to the little donut shop not too far from the hospital. Simmons, sadly, fit almost every single stereotypical police role that he had seen in the movies.

Martin had left about thirty minutes ago after he had dropped in with a small card and a Tupperware container of cookies, courtesy of his wife. After his departure, Simmons said he would stay with her until she awakened and made a promise not to go out for food. After about ten minutes, his stomach had begun to growl, and Jane knew that the slightly larger man had been at war with his stubborn stomach for the remainder of his time in Lisbon's hospital room. So, as any decent man would do, Jane told him to go grab something to eat while he kept vigil over the sleeping rookie.

Once Simmons was gone, Jane leaned back into the chair and sighed. It was finally silent, despite the machines monitoring Lisbon's heart rate beeping occasionally. Lifting up his wrist and glancing at his watch, Jane started to worry as to whether or not Lisbon would wake up any time soon. Sure, he had nothing better to do as the CBI's Serious Crimes Unit wasn't taking any cases, but he would rather be here in the hospital with Lisbon than in the field consulting. He expressed this to Minelli the day after the incident.

Every day he conversed with Angela for a total of five minutes on the phone and ten with Charlotte. Both were not happy that he was not home, but both had very different reasons. To Charlotte, Agent Lisbon was hurt very badly and her daddy needed to take care of her. And for Angela, her husband was getting involved with another woman.

Leaning further into the chair until he felt like he was going to be consumed by it, Jane started to close his eyes and roll his neck from side to side. Damn, these hospital chairs were very uncomfortable. A visitor either got one too hard or too soft. It was never just right.

"F-Fl-Flores." Jane stilled his movements and slowly began to open his eyes.

"Lisbon?" He moved forward towards the woman lying on the bed, concern evident in his voice. When she did not respond, he tried again. "Teresa?"

He watched as her eyes began to open. He watched as evidence of pain began to creep across her facial features, and because of that he reached over and pressed the button for the nurse.

"Teresa? Can you hear me?"

Lisbon's eyes opened a little more. "J-Jane?"

Her voice had been nothing more than a slight moan. And because of that, Jane knew that Lisbon was in some sort of pain. Without thinking, he took her smaller hand into his and gave her a small squeeze. He watched as her eyes flickered to his face for a moment and then at her hand in his. She looked puzzled, but did not try to get away from him.

Jane was about to say something when a nurse walked into the room, her pale blue scrubs almost blending into the wall behind her. When she saw Lisbon awake, her eyes opened large and she rushed to her side, calling over her shoulder for another nurse to page the doctor.

"How long has she been responsive?" the nurse asked.

Shrugging his shoulders, Jane felt Lisbon's hand squeeze his more tightly. "About a minute or two." Honestly, he had not been keeping track of her being awake, but he knew that it was not for long.

The nurse gestured for Jane to take a few steps back. Reluctantly he did what he was told as the nurse examined Lisbon. Within the next few minutes, the doctor arrived. She flashed the penlight in Lisbon's eyes, asked her a few questions, and examined her herself. Jane knew he had blanched at the sight of Lisbon's wounds once they propped her up a bit. And because of that, he decided to respect Lisbon's privacy and left the room.

~O~

When Lisbon had first awakened, she noticed the pain. Even though she knew she was in a hospital, she could still feel the impact of the shrapnel as it hit her body. And she could still remember the scared gaze of Flores as he was blown to bits.

It was weird, though, waking up to someone at her bedside. She had been in the hospital on more than one occasion and not once had she ever woken up to someone keeping vigil over her. The notion that someone would do that for her made her heart constrict a bit, but then again, this was Jane. He probably had some sort of ulterior motive to staying at her bedside for, what the nurses and doctor told her, three days.

Yes, that had to be it.

Though, this was not the first time she had awakened to a Hallmark Store. She had been shot once before, in a car accident (pursuit gone wrong), and had to get her tonsils removed. There were other instances, but those were the big ones where she woke up to the aforementioned Hallmark Store.

Now she lay in bed, her hand holding onto the television remote as she aimlessly flipped through the channels. Only an arm reach away was a cup of water and an uneaten mystery meat sandwich. Some part of her wished that Simmons would walk in with a box of donuts (and be willing to share) and keep her busy. Or perhaps Flores, who'd walk into the door exclaiming "Surprise! I'm alive!" But she knew that was a long shot. That Flores was indeed dead due to the bomb.

Raising a shaky hand towards the television and pressing the power button, she sighed. Maybe she ought to try and get some sleep. And maybe when she wakes up, all will be well again.

Carefully rolling over on her shoulder, the one without the IV's, she let her eyes slip shut and grow heavy. Taking a deep breath, she focused in on the machines and tried to let them pull her into sleep. But in reality, they were doing the exact opposite.

After what seemed to be ten minutes, or ten hours, she finally felt her eyes grow heavy. Relaxing into the bed, she allowed herself to fall asleep. But, as somewhat predicted, it was short lived. She heard the sound of her door opening and closing, footsteps following soon after. She wasn't surprised, as the nurses frequently liked to check up on her to make sure she was all right. It got annoying real fast.

"Teresa?"

Not a nurse.

Patrick Jane. Of course.

Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to pretend that she was still asleep. "Teresa, I know you're awake." She still didn't respond to him. She didn't want to enable him at all.

She felt him sit down across from her and then the rustle of fabric. He was moving in his seat. Making sure to keep herself still and "asleep," she made sure not to move once he pressed the apple of her cheek with his index finger. And because he was Patrick Jane, she was pretty sure he wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

When she felt him bringing his finger towards her again, that's when she decided that she ought to speak up. "Don't touch me, Jane."

Listening to her request, he kept his index finger from her face. "I knew you were awake." She could hear the smile in his tone, and that is why she opened her eyes and glared up at him.

"No you didn't," she mumbled into the almost-flat pillow.

"Yes I did."

Narrowing her eyes at him, she started to stiffly move into a more upright position. She was surprised to see a bit of guilt flash across Jane's face due to her pained movements. So, she decided to exaggerate it a bit with a groan.

"How did you know I was awake?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Easy. You were frowning."

"No I wasn't."

"Yes you were."

Lisbon frowned at him, and at this Jane smiled. She started to draw her arms to cross over her chest, but refrained from doing so when pain began to flare up in her shoulders. Jane seemed to notice this and sobered up, his smile fading from his features and being replaced with concern.

"You had me worried, you know." The sincerity in his tone made her pause. Looking up at him until her gaze locked with his, he continued. "You may think of me as a fraud…"

She nodded. "You are a fraud, Jane."

Leaning back a bit, Jane continued once more. "You may think of me as a fraud, but the…" He paused, seeming to mull over what he was to say next. "Concern I feel for you is genuine, Teresa. And I don't want to see your hurt."

Her eyes flickered to the ceiling to stay away from his searching gaze. After his admission, that he felt concerned about her, she felt somewhat naked in his presence. She wanted him gone from her hospital room, in all honesty. She wanted him back home with his family and for him to cease his constant…attempts at trying to get closer to her.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Without saying another word to her, he patted the back of her hand, smiled at her, and got up to leave. He glanced back at her right before he went around the curve, but left nonetheless without any sort of complaint or fuss. And despite wanting him to leave only a few mere minutes ago, she felt lonely as soon as his presence disappeared with the click of the door.

~O~

After leaving Lisbon's room, Jane walked in a direct line towards his rental car. Once in the parking garage, he walked past Simmons, who tried to stop and engage in conversation with him. Jane merely smiled and mumbled that he had some things to take care of. He also mentioned that he would be willing to meet up later to catch up. For a moment, Simmons had looked a little insulted, but let it slide as he reached back into his car to pull out a large bouquet of flowers, no doubt for Lisbon.

Once Jane got to his car, he paused. He knew very little about Lisbon's personal life other than the fact that she appeared to have none. She moved to Sacramento over the summer from San Francisco, and by her Midwestern accent, Jane would place her childhood home to somewhere in that general area. Chicago, to be more precise. But there was something else about her that had him almost want to step away from her. Sometimes, Lisbon gave him the impression that she was hurt. And that the only reason why she moved to California was to get away from something and to start over with a new life where so little people knew of her.

Drawing his lips into a thin line, Jane made the executive decision to go to Lisbon's apartment. He didn't know her exact number or building, but he knew the complex set of buildings. Those little slightly run-down apartments just fewer than fifteen minutes from the CBI. Honestly, he wasn't surprised that Lisbon would live that close to her job.

He got into the car, started it, and drove off in the direction of Lisbon's complex. Within ten minutes, he found himself pulling into the parking lot. Almost immediately, he saw Lisbon's car parked off to the side. Either Martin or Minelli must have arranged for Lisbon's car to be taken back to her apartment. Possibly to make it look like she was home. Without much further ado, Jane pulled in beside her and stepped out.

Getting out of the car, Jane surveyed around at the buildings. Lisbon would park in the closest spot to her home. Though, if Martin or Minelli brought her car over, this could be the wrong location. So, putting his hands in his pocket, Jane started to walk around the lot until he found one building that seemed more away from the others. For some reason, he knew this to be the building.

Recalling that Lisbon had once said to someone in the office that it was rather difficult carrying groceries upstairs to her apartment, Jane climbed the stairs. Once he reached the top, he realised he could only go one way. To the left. Turning, he walked up and down the covered corridor in search for her home. He canceled the first one he passed due to the "Home Sweet Home" plaques and the "Welcome!" mat with cats all over it. He then wrote off the third and fourth, as he could see a light on inside the third and a small child peeking out of the fourth. So, that left the second door.

Smiling and waving to the small child peeking at him, Jane reached into his jacket and pulled out a paperclip that he had put in there some time ago. Taking the time to bend it a little bit, Jane jammed the paperclip into the door, jostled it, and opened it without much effort. Taking a step into Lisbon's apartment, Jane made the mental note to talk to her tenant about possibly getting better locks installed.

"This seems to be the place," he mumbled as he looked around and took a step into the apartment.

Closing the door behind him and locking it, Jane began his search of getting to know the inner Lisbon. First he went over to her refrigerator, opening it to find sour, chunky milk, bread, a nearly brown banana, and some coffee creamer. Scowling at Lisbon's lack of epicurean tastes, Jane closed it and walked over towards her couch. One could tell a lot about a person depending on their choice of couches.

Jane plopped himself down and snuggled into the flat pillows for a moment. Within seconds, he felt something made of hard plastic digging into his behind. Taking a mental inventory of what it could possibly be, Jane's mind landed on one possible outcome: a gun.

Quickly, he jumped up, looked behind at the pillows, and walked towards where he assumed Lisbon's bedroom would be. He found it, at the end of a small hallway. The door was closed. Jane felt slight unease at the thought of going into Lisbon's bedroom, as she had it closed off. It was like she was there in the apartment telling him that her personal life (and bedroom) was off limits.

Wrapping his hand around the knob, he twisted and pushed it open. Inside was just an ordinary, plain room with an unmade bed. Behind the door was dirty laundry piled up on the floor, already beginning to smell. Jane made a mental note to take that stuff to a nearby Laundromat for Lisbon.

Wait, what was he planning on doing? He never planned on anything more than seducing her! Why was he thinking about doing her laundry? Making sure she was all right?

Shaking his head, he started to leave the room when his eyes caught onto something. There was a picture on the ground beside her bed, and the only personal item around other than the dirty laundry. Looking around as if he felt someone watching him, Jane crept towards the small frame and bent over to pick it up. Turning it over in his hands so that it was right side up, Jane ran his hand over the frame.

The picture was of a woman, similar to Lisbon. Her hair was lighter and had a few elaborate shades of red in it. Her eyes were similar to Lisbon's in colour and size. Her face, almost the exact same as Lisbon's, except her face was more of a heart shape. Running his fingertips down the side of the glass, his eyes caught sight of the cross around her neck. This was the same cross that Lisbon wore around her neck, too.

Furrowing his brow, Jane sat down on the bed and held onto the frame. The picture was rather old, that much he could tell. Maybe from the eighties, give or take. The woman, whom he now presumed to be Lisbon's mother, wore the cross that Lisbon currently did. Not once since he had first met her did Jane ever see Teresa Lisbon without that damn cross around her neck.

Then he realised that the most likely scenario as to why Lisbon would wear her mother's cross necklace hit him. He came to the sudden realisation that Lisbon's mother was most likely dead. And had been for a while.

Jane set the picture down beside him on the bed and breathed out, suddenly feeling guilty for his break in and his lecherous interest in Lisbon. She didn't deserve to be treated as if she were for a one-time fling.

He really was a bastard.

A "comrade" dies protecting civillians and another seriously injured. In the midst of all the pain and confusion, he breaks into the seriously injured's apartment and goes through her things to find out manipulative ways to get her into his bed. Yes, he still wanted her more than anything, but he decided he would have to use a different tactic. A more elaborate, respectful, and most likely long tactic.

Yes, he was a bastard. And he knew it.


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

November 27, 2002

Zipping up his small, travel size suitcase, Jane turned to his wife and daughter. They stood only a few steps away from him, both knowing full well that he had to leave that day and return to Sacramento. Smiling down at his daughter and then looking up into Angela's eyes, he nearly faltered. His wife, the woman he had promised to love and cherish every day, looked worried and upset.

At his glance, Angela leaned down and whispered something in Charlotte's ear. The little girl smiled and nodded before she skipped from the room. After her exit, Angela stood straight and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I don't like that you're going back to Sacramento, Patrick."

Jane sighed. "Ange, I'm going back for Flores' funeral. Nothing more."

His wife merely narrowed her eyes at his response. "And to see Lisbon, I presume," she added. "That's why you stayed in Sacramento for so long."

"I was worried about her."

Tossing her head back and scoffing, Angela just shook her head. "Really, Patrick? You expect me to believe that? Since when do you worry about the police officers that you work with?"

His eyes locked with hers and narrowed. "Or is it because you're sleeping with her?" Angela continued, her eyes narrowing in a dangerous manner.

Jane looked down for a brief second, feeling a surge of frustration begin to course through his being. "No."

"Then look me in the eye and tell me that you aren't sleeping with her!"

When Angela's voice rose in volume, Jane looked up at her once more. Taking in a deep breath to clear his mind, he carefully released it from his nostrils. "No. I'm not sleeping with Teresa Lisbon. Not now, not ever."

His wife continued to take a defensive stance, but that is when Jane reached down and picked up his suitcase. Clutching onto the handle, he walked over until he stood beside Angela, facing the other direction from her. Without saying anything, he kissed her on the cheek, ignored her body stiffening, and walked out of the room. Once outside, he glanced over his shoulder and watched as his wife's shoulders slumped down in defeat.

Continuing on, he left walked down the staircase and stopped once more when he saw Charlotte standing by the door, a bunch of stuffed toys held tight in her little arms. His little girl's cheeks were bright red and tears were in the process of running down her them.

"Charlotte?"

"D-daddy." Her voice sounded so sad, so broken. "Are y-y-you and mommy going to get a d-d-divorce?"

Closing his eyes and pinching the space between his eyes, Jane mentally cursed himself for not thinking once that Charlotte may ask this question one day. No doubt at her school she heard about the whole concept of divorce when other children's parents separated due to constant bickering.

Reopening his eyes, he smiled and knelt down before Charlotte. Letting go of his little suitcase, he grasped onto her shoulders and gave them an affectionate squeeze. "No, Charlotte, your mommy and I aren't going to get a divorce."

"Promise?" She sniffed and held out her pinky finger.

He hooked his own pinky around her much smaller one. "I promise."

~O~

Pulling on the black dress proved to be a long and painful task for the injured. After several rounds of expletives, Lisbon was able to look at her reflection in the mirror. The dress was rather free-flowing, making it easier for Lisbon to comfortably move around due to her injuries. Pants, that weren't loose, were still too painful to wear at this point in time. And because this affair happened to be no place for loose pants, Lisbon decided on wearing a black dress that she hadn't pulled out of her closet since the last funeral she had to attend.

Carefully breathing in and out, Lisbon ran a hand down the length of her side until it stopped at her hip. She looked all right, she guessed. She just wished that the cuts and bruises would fade more quickly than they have been since the bombing. The still-present injuries were not only a reminder to her, but also a reminder to Anita Flores how she survived the bombing and not her husband.

Moving away into the bathroom, she brushed out her hair and pinned it back. Satisfied with her appearance, she applied a light amount of make-up, mostly to hide the injuries, and then continued to search fro an acceptable pair of shoes to wear for the funeral. Finding a pair only a few minutes later, she slipped them on, examined herself in the mirror once more, and left her apartment.

She arrived inside the church just as the prelude ended. Due to her tardiness, she sat at the rear of the church alone, where she could barely see over the masses. Letting her eyes slip shut, she carefully ran her fingers along the side of the pamphlet. She listened to the priest recite the liturgy she knew so well.

"Amen." She finished alongside with the priest and the people.

Opening her eyes, she looked down and flipped the next page of the pamphlet and stared downward at nothing.

"You new in town?"

Lisbon looked over her shoulder as she carried a box of personal items over to the unoccupied desk. A man, a bit older than her, was addressing her. "Uh, yeah. I just transferred here from San Francisco PD."

The man smiled and held out his hand. "Juan Flores."

She smiled in return. "Teresa Lisbon."

Lisbon took a deep breath and tried to will herself not to think about the man the world had lost. Despite only knowing him for a short amount of time, Lisbon had found Juan Flores to be a decent friend to her. He and his wife, Anita, had invited her over for dinner on more than one occasion. Anita would always complain to her about how "thin she was" and that she "needed to put on more pounds." Which is why Anita always tried to feed her various desserts, even when she declined the offerings.

Smiling at the memory of the disgruntled Anita and the amused Juan Flores, Lisbon looked back down at the pamphlet. Anita would walk up and begin speaking about the life of her husband in a relative short amount of time, and Lisbon was not too sure if she could look at the woman in the eye. Not only had Flores become her friend, but his wife, Anita, had as well. And Lisbon didn't wish to see so much pain in Anita's bottomless brown eyes.

As she watched Anita walk up, her hands repeatedly switching which to hold onto, Lisbon closed her eyes once more. She knew this would happen, that looking Anita in the eye would be a near impossible task.

"LISBON! GET DOWN!"

Eyes snapping to Flores in surprise, her eyes also locked onto the man coming at them with the bomb strapped to his chest. The man looked very deranged as he ran at them, his hands clutching at the ends of his shirt. It then clicked that he just so happened to be one of the prime suspects for the murder case.

"LISBON! GET OUT OF HERE!"

She watched as Flores tackled the suspect to the ground and continued to yell for her to get away. He then proceeded to yell at the innocent bystanders, for them to run and go for cover. Seeing the struggle to get the bystanders away and to help Flores, Lisbon started to run towards her comrade.

"NO!"

Everything grew hot, then black.

A hand grasped onto hers and gave it a squeeze. Blinking, she looked down to see it intertwined with a man's hand. Following the arm, she paused when she saw Patrick Jane sitting there beside her, his eyes staring into hers.

He ran his thumb over the back of her hand once and turned back to watch Anita continue on with her speech. Lisbon watched him for a couple more seconds before she followed his gaze. She watched Anita during the last two minutes of the speech, and for those last couple of minutes, she felt her heart begin to constrict inside her chest. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed up any chance of crying, and breathed outward.

~O~

After figuratively laying Flores to rest, Jane proceeded to the nearest teashop. He promptly ordered a strong herbal and continued to stare at nothing before him. Right before the tea arrived, her undid his tie from his neck and threw it down on the table. Once his tea arrived, the server merely looked down at the customer with curious interest, but continued onto serving the rest of her customers. And for the next two hours, Jane sipped at his lukewarm herbal tea.

He had arrived late to Flores' funeral, due to a minor delay with the airlines. And luckily for him, in a sense, Lisbon had arrived late as well. Which is why he had found her situated at the back of the church rather than more up front in contrast to the rest of the team. And by her vacant expression, at that moment, he had realised that she was no doubt remembering her limited time spent with Flores prior to his untimely death.

Lukewarm tea didn't taste too good, Jane realised.

Setting the tea to the side, Jane gestured for the server, a different one now, to bring him the check. The server took one glance at his tea, as if silently questioning the quality. Jane just shrugged him off and started to reach into his jacket for his wallet.

He paid for the tea and left a tip for the current (and former) server and left the teashop. After the exit, Jane walked in aimless patterns up and down the streets. He crossed it and walked into a pub, ordered a shot of whiskey, and sat back to mull over his thoughts.

As he sipped at his whiskey, his mind wandered back to those weeks ago when he kissed Lisbon. What had compelled him to kiss her willy nilly, he did not know. All he knew was that he had been attracted to her (Well, he's attracted to a lot of women…) and it sort of just happened. Teresa Lisbon was an engaging woman that deserved to be cherished by any man, married or not.

Sip

First it had been just a kiss on the cheek! She was the one who grabbed his arm and turned him around to look back at her! Followed by her complete faith that he could do other things other than con people. That made her so…alluring to him.

Sip

If she had not said that beautiful word, "no," then he would probably not have kissed her and let that be. He probably would have tried to take it further if her raw admission had not been so powerful to him.

Sip

Why was Teresa Lisbon so difficult? Everything became jumbled when he thought about her. It was rare that a clothed woman could do that to him, and the fact that Teresa Lisbon could do it in a unisex pair of plaid pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt made Jane's mind even more muddled as it was.

Sighing, he set his drink down and fingered the rim of it. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip and looked up and gestured for the barkeep to come with the check. He had some unfinished business to attend to. He had to see Lisbon.

As the barkeep was gathering his tab, Jane picked up the glass and knocked his head back. Downing the remainder of the whiskey and paying the tab, he left the establishment and called for a taxi.

And once the taxi arrived, it did not take long before he stood before the door of Lisbon's apartment. He knocked thrice, his arm feeling heavy. Twenty-two seconds later, he heard the lock become undone and Lisbon open the door and pull it open. She stood before him in the very same dress he wore to the funeral, but barefoot and her hair void of any clips.

"Jane?"

"Uh, hi." He knew it had sounded lame, but he really didn't care.

She took a clumsy step backwards. "What are you doing here?"

Drawing his lips into a thin line, Jane took a step into her apartment. "I wanted to see if you were all right." At this, he looked over her shoulder and saw a bottle of tequila and a lone shot glass next to it on the coffee table. "And I don't think you are."

Lisbon blinked. "I'm fine, Jane." There was a slight slur to her voice that made him know otherwise.

"Right," he mumbled and took another step into the living area.

Lisbon's eyes moved towards the door, as if asking him to leave at once. Instead, he looked away from her and searched her home. Obviously, she still was oblivious to the fact that he had already been here once before.

"Why did you let me kiss you?" He had wanted to know that since his lips had made contact with hers those weeks ago. "If you are so adamant about me being here, then why the hell did you let that happen, Teresa?"

Anger flashed through Lisbon's eyes as she stood up straighter and clenched her hands into tight fists. "I didn't let you!"

He shook his head. "Yes, you did, Teresa, and I want to know why. You spend so much time trying to get away from me and suddenly you're letting me kiss you."

"I didn't –."

At her blatant lie, he scoffed. "We both know that's a lie, Teresa."

She narrowed her eyes. "And you know that it's a lie that you can't do anything other than con others, Patrick," she said in a defiant manner.

He paused and looked at her. What she had just said to him was so bold. So bold that not even Angela had tried saying that to him. In fact, Lisbon was the first person to ever tell him that he could do something other than con others.

"And how the hell do you know that?"

"I just do."

"You just do?"

She nodded and he took a step towards her. "Why do you put so much faith in me? Faith that's false."

Her eyes flickered up to his. "Because…"

"Because what?"

Her eyes narrowed again. "Because I know you can do better."

At her admission, he took a step back. Once more, she surprised him. Not once has another person told him that he could do better, and that they knew. People only told him that they were happy, proud, or upset with him. Never that he could do better.

For a brief moment, Lisbon looked down and then back up at him, appearing shocked by her own admission as well. At that, she turned and started to walk away, mumbling something incoherent when he grabbed onto her wrist. At his contact, Lisbon stopped and turned to him.

Carefully, he tugged her closer to him so that she stood before him. He held her gaze for a short time before he lowered his mouth to hers, allowing it to slowly brush over hers. He was amazed when she responded to him, her mouth moving equally as slow as his. He opened his mouth to exhale and felt her tongue move in to slide alongside his. Moving closer, Jane took the back of his knuckles and allowed them to run down the side of her cheek, turning around so that his fingertips could ghost along the column of her throat. He then moved his hand so it cupped the back of her head and tilted it back to give him better access to her. Lisbon brought one hand up so that it rested on his chest until it lay directly over his heart.

They parted from each other for a brief moment before their lips met once more. This time, unlike the first, it wasn't delicate. This time, it was nothing but a raw passion that did not cease until they lay in bed together, in a tangle of nude limbs.


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

December 16-17, 2002

He stood before the awe-inspired crowd, a bright light illuminating the stage. Squinting his eyes and holding the mic close to his lips, he continued to pace about the stage, talking. When he took a dramatic pause, the crowd inched ever so closer to him to hear what he had to say next.

Turning his attention to another woman in the crowd, he evaluated her appearance. She appeared to be average in height and weight, her tanned skin pulled tight over face and her cheekbones jutting out. Her lips were small and her eyes large and hazel.

Jane changed the hand holding onto the mic and pointed to her. "You there, what is your name?"

At the words directed to her, the woman blinked. "Uh, Sherie Cutts!" From what he could tell, this Sherie Cutts was tingling with excitement.

Nodding, Jane continued on with his con. "Sherie, you lost someone close to you." He paused and looked her over. She did lose someone, but not because of death. "They did not die."

When he mentioned that, Sherie's hands crossed together in her lap. Jane had to put in a lot of effort to hide his smile. "They left, did they not?"

"Yes!" she said.

"A family member, too."

Sherie Cutts also had a ring on her finger, giving him the sense that she was indeed married. And she did not look like this was a recent abandonment.

"Yes!" she said once more, gasping this time. "My brother! My sweet, older brother left right before he would graduate high school.…"

In all actuality, Jane didn't care about her brother. Or really anything she had to say about her little life. So, to feed her on, he smiled and gave her a message that her "brother" wanted to give to her. She drank up the con just as he had predicted she would.

When he was done, he gave his audience one final look before he waved and started to exit the stage. But just as he was about to take a step off the stage, he saw someone staring back at him, their arms crossed tightly over their chest.

Lisbon.

He hadn't seen her since they had slept together, even though he worked a case the week before. She was still on medical leave and refused to see him. And out of some lapse of momentary kindness (of a sort), he let her have her privacy.

Continuing down the stairs, he handed the mic off and started directly towards Lisbon. When her eyes locked with his, she looked down and away. As he was about to stop in front of her and begin speaking to her, Martin walked into his line of sight.

Mentally groaning at the interruption, Jane put on a fake smile. "Roderick, it is good to see you."

Martin crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "Jane, we have a case."

"Oh?"

"A child was abducted from a high-profile home. We were asked to come in on this one, mostly because of you." Martin turned and gestured for Jane to follow. "Let's go."

When Martin started to walk away with Lisbon following, Jane reached out and grabbed onto her wrist. This made her entire body freeze and slowly turn to look at him. In her eyes, he could see some sort of fire. And not the happy, passionate kind that he missed from that night.

"How are you?"

She narrowed her eyes at his question and pushed him away from her. He stumbled back a couple of steps, but regained his footing and looked at her. "I'm fine," she replied acidly.

Coming to terms that she probably wanted him to leave her alone, Jane nodded and briefly watched her go. After she advanced a few more steps, he followed her and Martin out, pausing to inform the studio that he was leaving.

~O~

Heather Langston, the little girl, went missing forty-eight hours prior to December the sixteenth from Oakland, California. On the fourteenth, and only a couple of hours since the little girl had gone missing, her parents were constantly calling the CBI and asking for their assistance in finding the child. Minelli was the one who had told them several times that they could not act on anything at the moment, frustrating the parents only more and more.

After overhearing a conversation with the girl's parents and with Minelli, Lisbon wanted to help. Yes, protocol said they could do nothing at the time, but she still wanted to shout at Minelli (and Martin) to screw protocol. And she was quite sure that the family, the one that used dollar bills to blow their noses, would be perfectly fine with her tongue.

So, that was why she had been secretly working on the case since she had originally heard about it. And so far, she hadn't gotten anywhere. She was mildly relieved when the CBI took over the case, as that meant she would be able to actually devote more time to finding the little girl.

"Lisbon, brief Jane over the case," Martin commanded.

Nodding and reaching over to pick up the clipboard, she flipped over the page and started to read. "The girl's name is Heather Langston, aged five. She went missing from an Oakland supermarket on Saturday, the fourteenth. Her parents, Bill and Stacy Langston, have been asking since the same Saturday for the CBI's assistance."

She added the last bit knowing that it would get to Martin that he had denied helping the family at first. And by the look he shot her from the rearview mirror, he understood what she had been implying. Though, she doubted he could find any evidence of that, but he could reprimand her for giving him "lip" as he called it.

"Simmons is with the Oakland PD, reviewing the security tapes from the super—." Martin stopped talking when his cell phone started to ring. Without much hesitation, he picked it up, flipped it open, and held it up to his ear. "Agent Martin. Simmons, what have you got?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes, knowing that if she answered her phone whilst driving, she would probably get a black mark on her file. Instead of saying anything, she fiddled with the pen in her hand and looked out the window, secretly listening in on the conversation. Simmons had a rather loud voice.

Jane peered around the front seat and smiled at her. She could see it out of the corner of her eye. And she also knew Jane could see that, so she kicked the back of his chair. Hard. Luckily for her, that was the time when Martin drove over a rather deep pothole. Meaning, it was disguised.

"Sorry," Martin mumbled to his passengers as he continued on with his conversation with Simmons.

"They've got this really good interrogator, boss. It's scary how good he is. It's like he's ice."

Lisbon smiled at Simmons and let her head hit against the headrest. Leave it to Simmons to get excited over a simple interrogator.

"What's his name?"

"Kimball Cho."

~O~

Kimball Cho really was everything Simmons had said he was. He was a tough, no-nonsense interrogator. And that's what caught Martin's attention once he had met the Korean man. Though, still wary, Martin made the decision to speak with one of Cho's superiors once the case was over. In a way of sorts, this was like test-driving a vehicle.

After Cho's interrogation of one Cooper Haans, they were on their way to the suspect's home. The suspect, Joe Lister, was a known sex offender that lived not too far from the Oakland supermarket. Meaning, it is very possible that Lister could have abducted Heather Langston.

Upon their arrival, Martin stopped the car at the curb and got out. With much ease, he approached the door of Joe Lister's dinky home with Jane and Lisbon in tow. Clearing his throat beforehand, he knocked against the wood and waited.

A man in his early forties opened the door. His hair, sparse and greying in some areas, stood out in contrast with his darker clothes. When he saw the law enforcement officers at his doorstep, he stiffened, but spoke without hesitation.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Martin nodded and gestured for Lisbon to pull out her notepad and pen. Then he flashed his badge at the hip to Lister. "I'm Agent Martin and this is Agent Lisbon." He pointed to his rookie and stopped at Jane. "And this is Patrick Jane, our consultant. We're with the CBI."

Lister drew his lips into a thin line and nodded. "Hi. Nice to meet you, I think." The tension in the air rose as Lister drew his arms across his chest. "What do you want?"

Shifting his footing, Martin looked over at Lisbon once more to make sure she was writing everything down. "We're investigating the disappearance of Heather Langston from the Oakland supermarket just up the road."

Lister nodded. "Okay," he said in a wary tone.

"Where were you on the afternoon of December the fourteenth, Mister Lister?" Martin asked.

Lister shrugged his shoulders. "I was visiting my wife. She's in the hospital."

"Do we have anyone to verify that?" Martin challenged.

Narrowing his eyes and dropping his arms from around his chest, Lister appeared to be very angry at Martin's assumptions. "Now what are you asking me, Agent?"

"Uh, he's asking you where you were two days ago because you're one of our top suspected abductors."

Everyone stopped and turned to look at Jane, who just shrugged. "Though, I don't think he should be one of our prime suspects any longer."

Lisbon stepped up. "Why? We don't know anything!"

At her question to the consultant, Lister turned and narrowed his eyes at her. Jane exchanged his glances from Lister to Lisbon. "Well, he used contractions. That's a sign that he was telling the truth."

"You don't know that."

Martin turned to look at the exchange between his consultant and agent. Lister flashed a look at Martin and returned his gaze two the squabbling pair.

"Yeah, I do."

"No, you don't."

"Your argument is based on the fact that he used a contraction!" For effect, she waved the hand that held a pen towards Lister. "And that's based on nothing!"

Jane shook his head. "No. You're mistaken, Lisbon. He isn't lying when he says that his wife is in the hospital."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes I do!"

Lister crossed his arms over his chest again. "My wife is in the hospital, Agents." At his statement, Jane took a step back, smiled, and held his hand out. "And I do not appreciate this discussion in my presence!"

At his declaration, Lisbon whirled around. "Mister Lister, I am so so—."

"No you're not," Jane said whilst smiling.

"JANE!"

"Please leave my home!" Lister said. "The CBI is no longer welcome here."

Jane turned to look at Lister and smiled. "On the behalf of the CBI, I apologize."

"Get off my property."

"No, really, I apologize. Agent Lisbon's just a little spiteful with me at the moment.…"

Martin interrupted Jane this time as he started to walk away. "Thank you for your time, Mister Lister. And I apologize for any sour feelings they may have caused."

Lister grunted and Martin continued on. At the departure of her boss, Lisbon narrowed her eyes and started after him. Jane fell in step beside her, and every time he tried to capture her gaze, she would always look away from him.

Once they got into the car, Martin looked into the rearview mirror at Lisbon. "When this is all over, I need to talk to you."

Nodding, Lisbon buckled in and they were off.

~O~

When the evening had come and gone, welcoming morning, a new suspect had arisen. And to question him, Martin took along Simmons with Jane. This felt like a jab to her confidence when they left for the vehicles, leaving the soon-to-be promoted rookie on desk duty. To answer the phones.

As she sat behind the desk, playing with a stubby pencil, a man walked by her and sat at another desk. From what she could tell, it was essentially his own, but she could also tell that he shared it with another cop. Then she remembered who this man was: Kimball Cho. For a couple of seconds, she watched the Korean man with mild interest, but continued on with what she was assigned to do when the phone rang. Yet again it was a concerned parent asking if they had found Heather Langston yet.

Hanging up the phone, Lisbon let her face fall forward into her hands. She just wanted to get back to Sacramento to sleep in her own bed. Lisbon also greatly wished for this case to end soon, and for it to be over with the Langston girl going home, alive and well, to her worried parents.

"I just want this to be over," she mumbled.

"It will be, eventually."

Looking up, she saw the same officer glancing over paperwork. She had never heard him speak, but she was certain that it was he. And for some reason, his words were strangely reassuring.

"Thanks, Officer Cho."

~O~

Sure enough, the "new" suspect was indeed the correct one. They found him pushing a screaming little Heather Langston into the trunk of a sedan. Once he had known that he had been caught, he seemed to try and decide whether or not to threaten the life of the little girl or his own. He eventually settled with Heather's, and held a gun to the small girl's temple as he roughly pulled her out of the sedan's truck.

Jane was asked to stand on the sidelines, as no one wanted him to get hurt or in the way. He did what he was told, for the most part, and watched behind one of the vehicles as Martin and Simmons negotiated with the child abductor. Eventually he drifted from the safety of the vehicle and watched as his appearance made the abductor grow shaky and uneasy. At this, Jane started to retreat.

"YOU CAN'T TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME!" The man yelled. "I WON'T LET YOU!" The little girl started to cry harder than she had been before at the sound of the man yelling.

Martin had approached him a couple of steps at that point. "Put the gun down, Mister Burns, put the gun down."

"NO! NO I WON'T!" To show his protest, Mister Burns grabbed a fistful of Heather's dark brown curls and held onto them rather than onto her tiny arm. This also showed that he was not afraid to hurt the little girl, which made Jane take another step forward as some of his paternal instincts cropped up.

"Mister Burns.…"

"LEAVE US ALONE!"

At that moment, Mister Burns pulled away from the sedan and started waving his gun around like a deranged man on a mission. When he saw the gun go up in the air, Jane took a couple of steps back and held his hands up to show that he was harmless. Inside his chest, Jane's heart began to beat rapidly to the point where it started to feel painful and breathing became difficult. He then quickly discovered that moving backwards and putting his hands in the air was a terrible idea with a deranged man with a gun around.

Mister Burns eyed him immediately and pointed the gun at him. Cocking it, he improved his aim. His finger was on the trigger followed by a loud bang. Seconds after that one, another was heard as a bullet was expelled from its chamber.

Jane stood, motionless, and watched as Mister Burns started to fall backwards. Heather was screaming and sobbing at the same time now, her little hands trying to push the hand off of her hair. Another bullet was fired and Mister Burns completely fell backwards, dead. Looking over his shoulder, Jane saw Martin standing with his gun still raised; smoke leaving the barrel as he continued to stare at the newly dead body of Mister Burns.

Slowly, Jane examined his body for any signs of blood or wounds. Nothing, he found. Taking a deep breath and nearly falling over, Jane started for the writhing little girl on the ground as she tried to get out of Mister Burns' death grip.

Kneeling down beside her, Jane slowly started to pry open the death grip and slowly began to work on getting Heather free. As he did his work, he would softly murmur comforting words to the small girl, occasionally pausing to tell her to look into his eyes and breathe alongside him. It usually helped keep her calm for a few seconds, twenty-eight at most, until she would start to grow panicky again.

After about ten minutes of trying to get her hair out of the deceased's grip, Martin kneeled down beside him with a pair of scissors. Jane knew the little girl wouldn't want to lose a lot of hair, but he also knew that she didn't want to be this close to the deranged man that terrified her for the past three days. So, they cut away the remaining hair that was still in Mister Burns's grip and slowly helped the shaking girl up.

Heather didn't want to stand up on her own two feet, so she flung her arms around Jane. Taking the hint, he picked her up and held her close to him. Only then was the time he realised that some of the blood that had dripped off of the body had gotten onto her, and Jane sighed.

Pulling her closer to him, he rubbed her back in a soothing manner and brought her over to one of the recently arrived EMT's. They checked her over, noted only a couple of bruises and scratches, and announced that she was healthy. Only when the little girl's parents arrived did he finally look into her eyes and see what caused him to stop. Her eyes were green. A beautiful shade of green that reminded him of Lisbon's. Hell, this child could have been Lisbon's with the green eyes, dark hair, and freckled fair skin.

"T-t-thank you," Heather told him as she got into the car with her parents and drove to the police station with a full-on escort.

As they started to leave, Jane waved goodbye.

~O~

When she learned that Heather had been recovered and the abductor killed, Lisbon breathed a sigh of relief. Overall, the case turned out better than she had originally thought it would. In these types of cases, if the little girl was recovered alive and her abductor killed (or something akin to that), it was a job well done.

As they left Oakland to head back to Sacramento, Jane obviously coming along too, Martin had stopped to talk to Cho. She was not surprised that Martin had done this, as they needed a new agent and would prefer it if the new agent were an interrogator. Cho seemed surprised when the job offer was presented to him, but quickly masked it and told Martin he would have to think about it. Lisbon had a feeling that Cho would soon be working with the CBI.

Once they had arrived back in Sacramento, Lisbon then noted Jane's silence on the trip back. Not once did he say anything and nor did he try to play some useless road trip game. He remained quiet, as if he were in deep thought. And deep thought and Patrick Jane were not good mixes.

They stopped by the headquarters briefly to file things away and get to their own respected cars. When Lisbon caught sight of her car and started to it, she was stopped by Martin. When she was only a couple of steps away from her little Camry, she heard him clear his throat.

Slowly, Lisbon turned to face her superior. He stood; hands stuffed in his front pants pockets with a stern look on his face. Lisbon straightened her back and re-gripped the car keys in her hand and waited for Martin to fully address her.

"Agent Lisbon."

She nodded her head in acknowledgement. "Sir."

He took a step forward. "Do you know why I'm here, Agent?"

She nodded again. "Yes, sir."

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Martin wanted to talk to her about the behaviour she and Jane had displayed at the innocent suspect's home. She didn't know what came over her, but she knew that the way she acted was inexcusable. So, she kind of deserved this conversation.

"Has Mister Jane done anything to you that I should know about, Agent?"

Lisbon knew her eyes must have widened briefly, but she regained her composure in record time. Martin appeared to have noticed it, as he shifted his footing and continued to give her the very same stern look that he had started off giving her.

"No, sir. Mister Jane has not done anything." She honestly didn't know why she was protecting Jane, as he not only was the bane of her existence, but he very well had acted inappropriately towards her.

Martin did not appear to believe her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Yes, I would have informed you otherwise."

There was a beat and Martin looked uncomfortable for a slight second. "Then are you two…lovers?"

When what he said registered, Lisbon felt her cheeks begin to warm up. To regain her composure, she swallowed. "No, sir."

From what she could tell, relief flooded across Martin's face. He quickly covered it up and nodded his head. "Well, that is all, Agent Lisbon. Drive safely and have a goodnight."

She nodded back to him. "You too, sir."

A few seconds after she spoke to him, Martin nodded his head in dismissal and walked away. After she saw him get into his car and drive off the premises, Lisbon got into her little Camry and drove home.

She arrived at her apartment in what seemed like record time. With a sigh of relief to be home, she cut the engine, got out of the car, and headed for her door. As she approached her door, she briefly contemplated whether or not she ought to check her mailbox, but decided against it. The mail could wait another day. She was too tired to check for any at the present time. With a slight shrug of her shoulders, she continued onwards.

Stopping before her door, she fumbled with her keys before sticking them in the door and turned. She opened the door and stepped inside the dark living (and kitchen) area of her apartment, but something felt off. As she stepped in, a strange prickling sensation made itself evident at the back of her neck.

Instinctively reaching for her gun, she heard a voice from her general couch area. "Good evening, Teresa."

With her hand still on her gun, she whirled around in the direction of the voice. As she continued to stare at the darkness, Lisbon could see a faint outline of a person sitting only a few steps away from her.

Hearing a rustle of fabric and followed by the click of the lamp, Lisbon came face to face with one Patrick Jane. In frustration, she pulled her hand away from her gun and let it fall to her sides.

"Jane, what the hell are you doing here?"

Jane looked around her apartment in a mock-lofty manner. "Waiting for you."

"Why?"

His gaze came back to hers. "What did Martin talk to you about?"

Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him. "That's none of your business, Jane."

Drawing his lips into a thin line, Jane shook his head. "Au contraire, Teresa, I'm sure it had everything to do with me."

She scoffed. "Right. Because the world just revolves around you."

He did not falter. "No, it does not. But Martin did express a desire to speak with you after we had a bit of a disagreement in front of a suspect. That, and there was an obvious amount of tension in the air." The corners of his eyes crinkled. "It was vaguely sexual."

Lisbon felt her cheeks begin to heat up, but she just blinked and looked away from his gaze. "There was no sexual tension."

"Ah, so you do not deny Martin's reasoning?" Jane paused for a moment and smiled. "And yes, my dear, there was most definitely sexual tension."

Her eyes snapped to his, and he continued. "Because I would most certainly be lying if I said that I wasn't attracted to you."

She swallowed. "You're married. You have a family."

"And your point is?"

"This is wrong."

"Having a healthy sexual appetite is wrong?"

"Only if you're married and not fulfilling your." She swallowed again and paused. "Desires with your wife."

"Meh. I make love to her."

Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest. "Sex, you mean."

"We had sex, Teresa. It meant nothing."

Lisbon's face flushed and she felt anger starting to bubble up within her once more. She took a few more steps closer to Jane until she towered over him as he sat on the couch. "Are you saying that I'm nothing? Because it sure as hell sounded like it!"

Jane shook his head. "No. I'm just saying that sexual intercourse with you is different than with my wife."

She shut her eyes and counted to ten. She made it to three before he spoke again. "I'm not saying that you were bad or anything. I'm just saying that I make love to Angela and have sex with the other women. I separate the two. It makes me become less atta—."

He was unable to finish his sentence. Lisbon lost her cool and punched him square in the nose. His head flew back, smacked against the wall, and then came back forward again. He stared back at her while clutching his nose, blood starting to seep through his nostrils.

"Get out," she said in a low voice.

When he made no sign of moving, Lisbon grabbed the front of his shirt, hoisted him up from the couch and pushed him in the direction of the door. He stumbled a couple of steps and turned to look at her with a mild look of…upset. Almost like he had regretted what he said.

Well, she would too if she had gotten punched in the nose.

Wordlessly, he left her apartment without looking back at her. And the whole time, Lisbon had her arms wrapped her body and contemplated whether or not to take a long, hot shower or bath. Because of what he had said, it made her feel unclean. Maybe she should have told Martin the truth.


	11. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

January 6-7, 2003

Jane was thankful to be returning back to Sacramento, even more so now that he had had an argument with Angela the night before. It was not an uncommon thing for Angela to decide to nag him about changing his profession to do something a bit more honourable, as they were most likely going to get caught rather soon due to keeping this up for way too long. Of course, he had told her, they had nothing to worry about. She was worrying over nothing. So, instead of flying this time, he had decided to drive the long distance in the mere hours of the morning. He felt bad about not being there to greet Charlotte in the morning, but he figured that Angela would have no problem explaining his absence.

Sighing to himself, he clutched the steering wheel tighter and continued towards Sacramento. He'd be there in two more hours, tops, and he couldn't wait to wait around there for three or so days by the poolside. Yes, he had told Angela that the CBI had called him and needed him. It was false, and he was sure she didn't believe him anyway, but that was all right. She sometimes didn't believe him even if there was an actual case.

And then there was Lisbon. The very nature of their relationship was different in comparison to his others. And as he hadn't seen her for almost a month, (the CBI called him twice, he told them he had pneumonia) he doubted that she hadn't forgotten about how they had parted last time, as it wasn't on the best of terms. So, a nice vacation away from both his wife and Lisbon seemed ideal at the moment.

Two hours later, he arrived in Sacramento. It was too early for him to check into any type of hotel, so he went off to find some good eggs for breakfast and wait.

~O~

In the mere hours of the morning, Lisbon didn't like to be awakened by her phone. Especially if Martin was on the other end these days. Lately he had been upset about not being able to get Jane to come on the last two cases of which they needed his assistance. He had pneumonia, apparently. Lisbon thought that was a bunch of crap, especially because she had seen him on television later that night, perfectly healthy.

Well, she'd rather be fast asleep in bed than be here, at a crime scene, scribbling in her notepad. In a state park, a young woman was found shot to death. The woman, no more than twenty-five, had three shots in a perfect triangle formation right over her heart. Whoever had done this was practised with firearms and found this murder to be personal.

She watched as the coroner leaned over the deceased woman, taking fingerprints and samples from underneath her fingernails. When the coroner was done, he smoothed down the dead girl's blonde hair and started to stand up, sealing away the samples. The coroner, Dr. McArthur, gave Lisbon a weak smile before he started to head back to his van, firing off orders as to what has to be done with the body.

At the coroner's departure, Lisbon took a deep breath and turned around to take in the sight. It was busy and morning traffic was just beginning to rush in. And of course, curious pedestrians had to stop and gawk at the dead body and all the police.

"Lisbon!" she heard Martin shout. "Control the civilians, please!"

With a nod and a "Yes sir," Lisbon was on her way to control keep the pedestrians from either taking shortcuts through the state park or to stop them from taking pictures with their "fancy" digital cameras. Either way, she had to be stuck with the boring work.

Wasn't the new rookie supposed to do this sort of stuff?

~O~

On his way from the diner to the hotel, Jane ran into a familiar face. Well, an old client, that is. An inebriated old client to be more specific, and Jane wasn't surprised that Toby Mulvie was drunk. That was one of the main reasons why Toby even saw him – to help him cope with the loss of his wife, Callie, and keep him from drinking his days away.

Callie Mulvie had died of breast cancer about seventeen years ago, leaving behind her husband (already an alcoholic man) and daughter. Toby, unable to cope and a former soldier, resorted back to drinking away his sorrows and taking out all his pained emotions on his young daughter, Sasha.

One of the main reasons why Jane even started letting a man like Toby see him was because of Sasha. The girl, young at that time, was a gem. She always had a positive attitude despite her father's violent alcoholism and the untimely death of her mother and found it easy, to an extent, to cope with the pain. Sasha Mulvie also had a passion for baking blueberry muffins, and Jane loved to eat them as much as she loved making them.

The second reason was because Toby had a large sum of money in his bank account due to his mother and wife's deaths. He almost cleaned out Toby Mulvie's bank account during that time, but he hoped there were no hard feelings. After all, he "connected" the Mulvie's to the late Callie.

Out of the pure goodness of his heart (and about forty dollars), Jane sat in the sitting room of the Mulvie house. And Jane did not like what he saw. The house, stale and musky, was littered with bottles of whiskey and tequila. There were a couple of broken shot glasses lying haphazardly around the floor combined with wrappings from fast food chain restaurants. There was also a large amount of dirty laundry lying around.

"'orry 'bout the mess, 'Trick," Toby slurred. "'Sha 'zually 'as it cleaned up a'bit."

Hiccup

Jane smiled. "No problem, Toby. How have you been?" He really didn't care about the man, but he was also wondering if he could get some money out of him before he left him.

"'m fine. A l'il tired ta be 'on-est."

Hiccup

The place also smelled like alcohol. And a lot of it.

"'Sha's kid gives me a head…" he trailed off for a few seconds before remembering what he ought to say. "Ache."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Sasha has a kid?"

Toby nodded clumsily. "Yesh. Ann-oying l'il bitch, tha kid."

"Toby…"

Even though Jane really didn't give a damn about Toby Mulvie, he did about Sasha. He had assumed that Sasha lived elsewhere and visited occasionally, as she was nowhere to be seen. And now that Sasha apparently had a baby, it made him even more worried.

"Toby, where is the kid? Where is the baby?"

Toby rolled his eyes and reached for a half-empty bottle of whiskey. "I dunno. Good rid-dance."

Leaning back into a moth-eaten sofa, Jane thought for a couple of moments. Something was not right, and he had a bad feeling about this whole situation.

~O~

She hated crowd-control duty. Not only did it bring the worst out in her, but also it greatly annoyed her. And because it happened on a Monday morning this time around, she knew this week was to be doomed.

Taking a few moments to get a breather, Lisbon leaned up against a skinny tree and closed her eyes. Crossing her arms over her chest and still clutching onto her notepad, Lisbon let her mind begin to drift towards the future. And all her thoughts led up to her shaking Minelli's hand and accepting the position as senior agent.

At the thought of becoming senior agent one day, her lips quirked up in a smile and her mood increased only slightly. While she was in the middle of taking in a breath, she heard a noise from a bush behind her. Pausing and cracking open one eye, she scanned her surroundings. Everything was the same as it had been just moments ago, so she saw no harm in reclosing her eyes. But as her eyelids were about to meet, she heard the rustling noise again followed by a whimper.

This time, her eyes snapped open completely and she whirled around in search of the source of the noise. Peering into the bush behind her, she faintly saw pink fabric. Quickly, Lisbon got on her hands and knees and parted the branches of the bush, ignoring the small scratch over her knuckles.

At the sight of a baby girl, dressed in pink with a little white bow on her head, Lisbon stopped. The girl looked scared, and at the sight of Lisbon began to whimper. Lisbon raised an eyebrow and began reaching for the girl, who started to pull away.

"Shh, you're all right," Lisbon cooed. "I've got you."

Grasping onto the little girl, she hoisted her out of the bush. Standing up, Lisbon looked around for a medic. When she spotted one, she looked down at the little girl's face before waving the medic over.

"Where did the baby come from?" the medic asked upon arrival.

Lisbon shrugged her shoulders and set the child down on the grass. "She was in the bushes."

The medic nodded and began looking at the girl. When he titled the baby's head to the side, that's when Lisbon saw it. On the side of the girl's head, there was a purple bruise. At the sound of her gasp and her gesture towards the mark, the medic turned the girl around and saw the bruise. Frowning, he gingerly felt around the mark, presumably looking for skull fractures.

"LISBON!"

Her head shot up at the sound of her name. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Martin coming towards her. And he didn't look happy.

Turning her body completely towards Martin, Lisbon braced her hands on her hips. "Yes sir?"

"The new rookie, Agent Cho, is starting today. I would like you to be back at the – is that a baby?"

Lisbon kept on nodding and looked down at the little girl lying on the grass, her onsie gone and sitting only in, from what Lisbon could tell, a soiled diaper. "Uh, yeah. I found her in the bushes."

Martin took a step back, waved his hand back and forth due to the smell, and looked up at Lisbon. "Do you think she's the murder victim's?"

Once again, Lisbon shrugged her shoulders. "It's possible."

"Change of plans, then. Wait here with the baby until social services comes around. I'm going to go tell Simmons to go back to headquarters."

Lisbon nodded. "Yes sir."

But then she realised why she was to look after the baby, or the most probable reason. And it was because she's female.

~O~

When Toby passed out after a superfluous amount of drinking, Jane had gotten up from the moth-bitten sofa and began to snoop around the house. By the time he had turned a corner, he already didn't like what he saw. There were more broken bottoms littered around in the hallway than in the sitting room, and next to one of them was a baby book.

Leaning down, Jane carefully picked up the small, thick baby book and held it in his hands. It reeked of alcohol, for one thing, and appeared as if it were waterlogged. Overall, it didn't look like it should even be in an alcoholic's lair. Turning it over, Jane caught a familiar title – a book he had read to Charlotte oh so many times when she was a baby.

Carefully, he tried to open the book, but accidentally split it open completely. Half of the book fell to the floor, lying against the alcoholic debris. The very sight seemed to have sucked any sort of happiness from Jane.

He ought to call the CBI.

With a sigh, he set the second half of the book down on the floor along with the first and stood up. Reaching into one of his pockets, he pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. Without saying another word, he dialed Simmons' number and waited. The man picked up rather quickly, out of breath too, and Jane just wordlessly told him the address to the Mulvie house, hoping that Simmons would be smart enough to come over.

When he flipped the phone closed, he heard the sound of a bottle crunching underneath a boot. Whirling around, he saw Toby Mulvie standing behind him, a bottle, this one almost full, in hand.

"'Ya took ma money, you bastard!"

Jane raised his arms up in front of him and took a step back. "Toby, listen to me…"

"'YA TOOK MA MONEY!"

At the sound of the raised voice, Jane cringed. He took another step back to put even more distance between him and the still inebriated man. "Toby…"

"NO!"

"Toby, please listen to me. You don't want to do this."

Toby didn't say anything else. The drunk man extended his hand in an attempt to grab onto Jane. When Jane moved away from him, barely keeping his jacket out of the man's grasp, he stumbled over a full bottle on the floor. Fumbling to try and regain his step, he felt Toby grasp onto the back of his jacket. Eyes widening in alarm and heart pounding in his chest, Jane wiggled his way out of his jacket and took off down the hallway once more. If he could get into the bedrooms, lock it, and then go through a window, everything would be all right.

"C'OME BACK 'ERE, 'TRICK!" Toby roared from behind him.

He didn't stop to look back., but he knew that Toby wasn't far behind him. Even a few steps behind him, he could hear the drunken man's clumsy footsteps clamoring around and stepping upon the empty bottles.

"'TRICK!"

Jane only stopped to grasp onto the doorknob and push it open, even though it was just for a second. In his hurried state to open the door, Jane lost his balance and stumbled towards the bed in the middle of the room.

Eyes widening in shock and fear, he turned around to see Toby burling through the door, eyes now bloodshot and livid. Scrambling once more, Jane raced for the window, and just as he was about to reach it, he felt the back of his shirt collar be grabbed. Twisting his body around and trying to swing a feeble punch in the drunken man's direction, he was met with a fist in return.

His head snapped back when Toby's fist connected with his jaw. On instinct, Jane reached up and felt the pained area and looked at Toby for a moment, only to find that the drunken man's knee came up and connected with Jane's lower abdomen. Doubling over in pain, Jane knew immediately that he was not in a good position. With a furious sound, Toby's foot came in contact with the side of Jane's head, knocking him into an unconscious state.

~O~

It was just after noon when Lisbon was able to sit down for lunch. For the majority of the morning, Martin had had her on baby duty. And having to dote on a small child really worked up her appetite. Especially because her meager breakfast hardly filled her up all those hours ago.

Just as she was about to take a bite out of her ham and cheese sandwich, Simmons entered the kitchenette area. He looked perturbed as he stared down at his cell phone. Lisbon took a bite out of her sandwich, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Simmons usually had trouble with modern-day technology.

"Someone called me today."

Lisbon nodded in response, her mouth still full of her sandwich. "It sounded a lot like Jane, too."

At the mention of the bane's existence, Lisbon slowed down her chewing. Jane normally didn't call Simmons; it was either her or Martin. Shrugging, she finished chewing and wrote it off that Jane couldn't possibly have called. Especially since he was back in Malibu with his family.

"Well, whoever it was, they left an address."

Glancing over at Simmons briefly, Lisbon shrugged her shoulders once more at the older agent. In return, he shrugged his own shoulders and started towards the refrigerator for his lunch when the new rookie, Cho, walked in. He had arrived around ten in the morning, as per Martin's request. Lisbon almost scoffed at his somewhat tardy arrival. (Martin had her at a crime scene before seven in the morning on her first day.)

"Who left an address?" Cho asked.

Martin looked over at the rookie. "I don't know. He sounded a lot like our consultant."

Cho didn't say anything; he just went towards the coffee pot as if he were on a mission. "It probably was," he said flatly.

Simmons quirked his eyebrow. "But our consultant lives in Malibu."

Cho poured himself a cup of coffee. "From what I've heard about Patrick Jane is that he tends to move around a lot without telling his supervising agents." He took a sip of his coffee.

"Jane always has reasons as to what he does, I think," Simmons countered. "There really isn't anything for him here in Sacramento. He's usually in San Francisco, Los Angeles, or in the general Burbank area."

"That's if he decides not to work a case with us," Lisbon mumbled right before she took another bite from her sandwich.

"Who works a case with us?"

Everyone in the room stopped and turned to see Martin and Minelli walking into the kitchenette. No doubt the duo was either trying to get themselves fresh cups of coffee or their own lunches. Either way, their arrival was most unexpected at this moment.

"Jane, sir," Simmons replied.

"What about him?"

"Well, he usually works the cases he wants, you know?"

Sighing and walking over to the refrigerator to pull out his lunch, Minelli nodded. "Yes, Jane does come and go as he pleases. But he's good at what he does."

Martin didn't say anything; he just went over to the coffee maker and poured himself a hearty cup of joe. He knew better than to argue with what Minelli thought about the SCU. Especially when it came to everyone's favourite consultant, Jane.

Clearing his throat, Simmons perked up. "Well, someone called me on my phone and left a message…"

Minelli merely raised his eyebrow, as if almost to tell Simmons that phones were supposed to receive calls these days. "And the guy on the other end sounded an awful lot like Jane, you see. He left a message too."

Without waiting for Minelli to answer him, Simmons pulled out his silver Nokia and flipped it open, searching through a couple of things before a familiar voice filled the small space of the kitchenette. There was no denying that the other man on the end was none other than Patrick Jane. He sounded preoccupied and almost bothered, something that was quite rare for the wily man.

When the message ended, the voice still lingering in the air by the time the automated voice filled the room. Lisbon felt a small sense of dread begin to bubble up in her stomach, as if something wasn't right. She set her sandwich down and looked over at Minelli for answers and then to Martin.

Furrowing his brow, Minelli set his lunch down at the counter and looked over at Martin. "Your consultant is in Sacramento and something doesn't feel right."

Martin nodded, taking in what his superior was telling him. "I want at least two of your people to go check out that address, Martin."

"Lisbon, Cho, you heard him. Check out the address."

Cho tipped his head slightly and walked towards the bullpen. Taking one last glance at her superior, Lisbon stuffed the remainder of her sandwich into her mouth, balled up the brown paper bag, and followed Cho to the bullpen. There she picked up her firearm and secured her holster.

Within moments later, she was driving towards the mysterious address alongside Kimball Cho.

~O~

His head hurt and everything was fuzzy. Well, actually, saying that his heard hurt was putting things lightly. His head felt like someone had hit him with a metal baseball bat. He would know, as his brother-in-law, Danny, did it to him right before he and Angela ran off together.

Groaning and trying to sit up, Jane rubbed the side of his head, grimacing at the nice lump he felt beneath his fingers. Wincing when he felt a certain sensitive point, he tried harder to move into a sitting position, but found it difficult to move once he realised that his ribs were protesting any form of movement involving the torso.

"Bastard cracked something," he muttered under his breath as he grit his teeth and fought through the pain to sit up.

His breath heavy with exertion, he leaned back against the bed in the middle of the room, which he had been laying next to. Closing his eyes and trying to regain some form of breath, he clumsily reached into his jacket pocket and shakily removed his little cell phone. Holding it in his hand for a second, he flipped it open with his thumb and ran it over the glowing numbers.

There was no questioning it; he had to call someone that would be able to help him. He knew he had called Simmons earlier, but he didn't have enough faith that Simmons would have been able to press a few buttons here and there and actually get the message. He should have called Lisbon first and then Simmons second. If he had done that, he probably would not be in this mess.

Inhaling deeper once more, he opened his eyes and glided his thumb over the lit up numbers to make the call. Shakily, he held the phone up to his ear and waited. He was delighted to hear the phone ringing on the other end, but when Lisbon didn't answer, the pit in his stomach grew.

~O~

The house belonged to one Toby Mulvie, a widower and war veteran. He lived with his daughter, Sasha. There was also a record of a domestic violence suit filed, but revoked later on. And even though it had been revoked, it still worried Lisbon to some extent that Jane may be in some sort of trouble. Regardless of what he had said to her the last time she saw him.

Cho's cell phone rang when they were about halfway there. It was Simmons calling them. They were both perplexed that he was calling them, as they had just hung less than ten minutes earlier. He was calling to tell them that Toby's daughter, Sasha, was the woman they had found earlier that morning.

Dread had managed its way into her stomach once more and she sped up the car just a little bit. Not only was Toby Mulvie their top suspect, but also a (not so innocent) civilian was in danger if Toby turned out to be their man.

When they arrived and pulled up to the curb, the hunch within her intensified. She looked over at Cho and titled her head to the side. "Call for backup."

Cho nodded at her and picked up the radio. As he was doing that, she stepped out of the SUV and headed across the half-dead yard towards the front door. She jumped a little when she heard Cho close the car door behind him, but faced forward once more and reached for her gun as she rang the doorbell.

After twenty seconds of no answer, Lisbon rung the doorbell once more. She only waited ten more seconds before she began to manually knock on the wooden door. Leaning in closer to see if she could possibly hear anything on the other side, she continued to knock with her entire fist this time.

"Mister Mulvie, this is the CBI! Open up!"

There was still no answer. Without giving Toby Mulvie another chance, she looked at Cho, gestured for the door, and he wordlessly backed up a bit, ran towards the door, and kicked it off its hinges.

Briefly looking at the door, barely hanging on to its frame, Lisbon admired Cho for a second. Not many rookies were capable of knocking down doors, but Cho apparently was an exception.

Gesturing with her shoulder how to move it, Lisbon pulled her gun from its holster and stepped into the house. She was immediately hit by a musky and stale scent of a house that had been neglected over a period of years. Followed by the smell, she saw all the bottles littering the floor. And haphazardly on the floor, next two several empty bottles and slightly on top of them, was a gun.

Changing her grip on her gun, she gestured for Cho to head down one part of the house while she went down the other. Nodding in affirmation, Cho set off towards the left side while Lisbon veered right.

Every time her foot hit a bottle lying on the floor, the pit in her stomach grew larger and larger. About a quarter of a way into the hallway was when she felt the sickness begin to rise in her stomach. No doubt Toby Mulvie was an alcoholic and she immediately sympathized with Sasha and her baby. Especially since her own father had been one to drink away his horrors.

Once she reached the end of the hallway, she softly reached out and grasped onto the knob. Turning it to the right and pushing it open, she watched as the door revealed its contents. An unmade bed was in the center, followed by dirty clothes and garbage. This part of the house also smelled of stale urine.

Grimacing, she took another step in and tried to look around where the door was, only for her eyes to land on a man propped up against the bed. A man with a large lump on the side of his head sat on the floor, eyes closed, and breathing raggedly.

The man also happened to be Patrick Jane.

Quickly holstering her gun, Lisbon took a couple of large steps until she kneeled down next to the consultant. Taking his face in her hands to better examine the large lump and nice bruising on his head, she felt a sense of relief when he jolted awake.

"Teresa?"

He stared up at her, thankfulness obviously evident in his eyes. In return, she furrowed her brow and pulled her hands away from him to step back a bit. "What are you doing here?"

At her louder tone, he winced. "I wanted to get away from Angela," Jane said weakly.

Lisbon stared at him indecorously. "You mean to say that you drove five hours just to get away from your wife?"

In normal circumstances, Jane most likely would have nodded his affirmation. Instead, he weakly smiled at her and mumbled a quick "yes."

"But why would you come…here?"

Jane raised one shoulder and quickly dropped it back down. "I ran into an old client."

"Toby Mulvie?"

"Yes. An old client of mine."

"Ah, is that why he bashed your head in?" she joked.

As Jane opened his mouth to answer her, he stopped when he saw the towering silhouette of Toby Mulvie behind her. For a drunken man that left an exorbitant amount of empty bottles around, he sure could get around quietly.

"Teresa…"

In the shadows, he saw Toby begin to raise his hand. Then he heard the slight creak of a floorboard underneath Toby's feet.

"Wha—."

Lisbon wasn't able to finish her sentence when they heard the click of a gun. Without thinking or worrying about his injuries, he grabbed onto Lisbon's upper arms and pulled her closer to his body. Taking one last fleeting glance at the silhouette, Jane pushed his lower body into Lisbon's and moved them to the side just as the gun went off and a bullet lodged into the bed.

She gasped and moved away from Jane, taking a moment to glance down at his pained body as she reached for her holstered gun. Between the drunken man clambering into the room, Jane's heavy breathing, and her thundering heart, Lisbon found it hard to concentrate on getting her gun into her hands.

Toby was in full view, the gun held level to her chest as she still kneeled on the ground. The gun clicked and Lisbon pulled out her gun, but knew she wouldn't have time to ready it and fire.

"TERESA!"

She heard three earth-shattering gunshots followed by a heavy body dropping to the floor. Her heart stopped and her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of Toby Mulvie's blood staining the floor, his eyes still open in death.

Seconds later, Cho entered the room, his smoking gun lowering at the sight of Lisbon. "You guys okay?"

Lisbon nodded and looked over at Jane, who stared back at her. "Thanks, Cho."

Cho didn't say anything as he began to holster his weapon and kicked away Toby's gun. As he left the room, he took one last glance at Lisbon as she took a step back and kneeled down beside the injured consultant.

She was still in shock; Lisbon began asking Jane a few basic questions. ("Can you stand up?" "On a one to ten scale, how bad is the pain?" "Do you think you may be concussed?") It wasn't until she heard the familiar sirens of emergency vehicles until it dawned on her that Patrick Jane had saved her life.

~O~

It was several hours later when she arrived back at her apartment, and she was greatly thankful for the ability to sink into a hot bath. As she was still a bit jumpy from the day's events, time to soak in the hot water was welcomed whole-heartedly. Afterwards, she drained the tub, put on an oversized T-shirt and sweats, and headed over towards the kitchen to see her choices for dinner. As usual, there was only some milk and dangerous looking takeout food.

Grimacing, she closed the refrigerator and decided that she would order a pizza. Just as she was about to reach for the phone, she heard a knock on the door. Before she answered the door, she knew who it was. There was only one person in the world that would come knocking on her door at a time like this.

Looking into the peephole and seeing his distorted face, she sighed loudly. "Jane, go back to Malibu."

"But Teresa, I brought mu shu pork!"

Cursing the man and her growling stomach, she opened the door. He stood there, arms at his sides along with a plastic "THANK-YOU!" bag that was so stereotypical of takeout chains.

Glancing down at the bag, she made a grab for it, but he pulled it out of her reach. "Uh uh uh, Teresa, if you want it, I must eat with you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why?" She knew why.

"Because I don't want to eat alone and I'm sure you're quite tired of it."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be," he said softly.

Her eyes opened a bit wider and he took that moment to move into her apartment. She was about to kick him out of the apartment when the delicious smell of the mu shu pork assaulted her senses. God, she was too hungry to tell him to get out of her apartment. Screw calling the pizza man, she'd have the takeout.

She watched Jane set the bag on the counter and begin to pull out the separate plastic containers and silverware. At this time, she glanced over him. He had two butterfly plasters on the side of his head, holding together a small cut that she hadn't seen. The bruising had intensified over the last few hours, but the swelling of the lump had gone down some. No doubt he'd been icing it.

Suddenly, glancing at the injuries that Jane had received earlier today made Lisbon recall the memories of her father when she was stuck in a drunken stupor, and she instantly felt sorry for Toby. He had had no chance to explain himself, even though they ruled that he had killed his own daughter. Still, Toby should have still had a chance…

Absentmindedly, she reached up and rubbed the side of her cheek, remembering how her father had hit her there more than once. Closer towards her nose, her fingertips found the barely noticeable scar that she usually kept concealed with minor foundation. For some reason, that one scar had stayed after all these years…

"Teresa?"

She snapped out of it when he said her name. Blinking a couple of times and hoping she didn't have a glazed expression on her face, she reached in and grasped onto the container of the mu shu pork.

When she sat down on her couch, a thought entered her head. Toby Mulvie didn't appear to be a man of any sort of wealth, unlike Jane's other clients. That either meant that Jane sucked that family dry of any source of funds or they lost a large sum of money and he had to stop "helping" them.

"How was Toby Mulvie a client of yours, Jane?" she asked as she forked a piece of pork.

Jane exhaled the breath he had been keeping in. "The Mulvie's were clients of mine after Callie, Toby's wife and Sasha's mother, died. I was the bridge between this world and where Callie was."

She figured that was the case, but at the mention of Callie Mulvie, Lisbon couldn't help but momentarily set her food on her lap and look down. "Toby was an alcoholic before he had met Callie, but she made him want to get better. And when she died, he became that drunk man he died as."

"How did he afford it?"

Jane glanced down at his own food. "I felt bad for his daughter. I gave them a discount."

Lisbon felt her lip tremble for a second and felt some tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Closing her eyes, she had to command herself not to cry before Patrick Jane. Out of all the people in the world, he was not to see her cry.

Without another word, she stabbed another piece of pork and placed it in her mouth. They finished their meal in silence, Jane occasionally looking over at Lisbon when she refused to look back over at him. She knew he was doing this, but was grateful that he had refrained from saying anything to her.

When they were finished, he held out his hand for her garbage. Briefly looking up at him, she handed the empty plastic container over into his hands. He drew his lips into a thin line and walked over to the bin and threw away the containers.

"Thank you," she said.

She heard him sigh. "I thought you were to be hungry and I wanted company while I ate."

Closing her eyes, she breathed in and knew he heard the slight sniffle of her nose. "No, I was thanking you for saving my life today."

"You're welcome." He seemed uncomfortable at her thanks.

She gave him a slight nod and started to walk towards the kitchen area. "Would you like a cup of coffee or tea?"

"Tea, please."

She nodded and started opening the cupboards in search for any tea she was sure she had stocked up somewhere. At the back of the second cupboard, she found a slightly dusty box of peppermint tea.

"All I have is peppermint. Is that all right?"

Lisbon waited for a couple of seconds before she turned. "Jane?"

He was right behind her, his eyes smoky as they looked into hers. Under his intense gaze, she instantly felt much smaller than she usually did around him. Tenderly, he reached up and brushed his fingertips down her cheek, briefly stopping by the small, thin scar. His darker eyes looked curious at the blemish, but he continued his fingers down her jaw to the column of her neck.

His pupils dilated.

"Jane…"

He didn't let her finish. His lips softly brushed over hers before he applied more pressure to the kiss. Leaning into it a bit more, Jane placed a hand on her waist, his thumb right under her breast. He squeezed that area lightly and she inhaled. His lips pressed against hers even more firmly than before and his entire body pressed her into the counter. The hand at her waist drifted down to the hem of her shirt and slowly started to lift it up.

Carefully, he ran his warm hands down the entire length of her belly. With one finger, he swirled it around her navel, reveling in the sharp little gasp she made. Pulling her even closer, he reached up with one hand and tangled it in her hair, pulling her much closer so there would be no space between them.

Lisbon lost the ability to think. Her head was practically swimming about in a vast ocean of lust when his mouth left hers and began to trail down the side of her neck. He nipped the sensitive skin and rolled his hips against hers, eliciting another sharp gasp from her lips. She felt him begin to turn her body around and slowly move towards the bedroom.

"Why don't we take this to bed?" he whispered against the shell of her ear, his breath causing her to shiver.

Without saying anything, she nodded. And with each step she took towards the bedroom, she felt her heart pound against her chest. This was wrong, so wrong, it told her with every step. Closing her eyes and turning around to face Jane, she willed what tiny bit of self-control she still had to speak out.

"Jane, we shouldn't—."

Lisbon was unable to finish her sentence when Jane's hands gripped her upper arms and lips were placed over hers. In surprise, she felt her eyes widen before they closed. He pushed her down on the bed and moved her to the middle. When her smaller hands gripped onto his shirt, he leaned down and kissed her again.

~O~

At three in the morning, Jane awakened in an unfamiliar bed. But when the familiar feeling of a soft, naked body and the familiar scent of soap and cinnamon flooded his senses, he felt his body automatically relax. Tucked within his arms was none other than Teresa Lisbon.

Smiling sheepishly at the sight of the petite woman in his arms, he reached down to pull some of her hair away from her face and leaned down to press a chaste kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there for a second and he took the time to inhale her scent once more.

She was out. After their second round, she had fallen fast asleep in his arms. Thirty minutes after that, he woke her up from her slumber for round three. Since then, she had been using his arm as a pillow.

It wasn't an uncommon thing for him to have sex multiple times with the same woman during the same night, but it was an uncommon thing to share her bed for the night. When he had initially awakened, he felt instantly nervous about having fallen asleep tangled with the little firecracker. He also felt extremely comfortable being next to her at the same time.

Realizing that he really ought to leave and head back to Malibu, he slowly started to untangle himself from Lisbon. When he got his arms away from her and began to roll away, he heard her mumble something incoherently.

"Patrick?"

He turned to her. "Shh, Teresa. I'll be back."

Blinking her sleepy eyes at him, she nodded and let her head rest on the pillow this time. Immediately after it hit, she fell back asleep. With a sigh, Jane pulled on his clothes and started towards the door when he came to the conclusion that he couldn't just leave her here without giving her some sort of heart felt note.

Finding a pad with lined paper, he tore off a piece and picked up a ballpoint pen he found close to the laundry basket. Quickly, he wrote down three words and set the note on her pillow close to her hand. One more time, he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead before he left the room.

"I was wrong," the note read.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

January 13, 2003

It had been one week after Toby Mulvie's shooting and Lisbon was required to visit the department shrink until the doctor signed a form. She fought Martin when he told her that she had to go visit the shrink and refused to give him her real reason – she hated the concept of someone trying to get into her head. Cho too was required to see the therapist, but he was scheduled to go on Wednesdays. Lisbon had a feeling that Cho wouldn't have that many visits with the department therapist.

Jane had gone to a therapist whom he "trusted completely" and was signed off that very day. When he delivered the form to Minelli, Lisbon knew that it had been fictitious. Despite his serious demeanour whilst delivering the form, she was able to catch the smirk across his features when he walked past her.

"Agent Lisbon."

Lisbon looked forward, her eyes locking on the small form of Doctor Julie Logan, the department shrink assigned to see to she and Cho. Doctor Logan, a woman in her mid-fifties with greying hair and reading glasses hanging on the tip of her nose, was determined to make sure that Lisbon went through with the sessions. She made this clear once Lisbon entered the room.

Shifting on the couch, Lisbon crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap. "Can you tell me what happened last Monday?" Doctor Logan continued.

"Yes," Lisbon nodded, "I was called to a scene and was put on crowd control." She did not like having to talk to shrinks, and she almost preferred the crowd control to this. "And just as I was finishing, I heard a small child crying in the bushes."

Doctor Logan furrowed her brow. "How is the child?"

"Excuse me?"

"The child, Agent Lisbon, how is she?"

Lisbon nodded. "She's fine. Child Protective Services have put her into a foster home."

Drawing her lips into a thin line, Doctor Logan wrote something down on her clipboard. "The case was a hard one, was it not?" Lisbon didn't answer her. "Toby Mulvie was an abusive alcoholic."

Lisbon nodded once more. "Yes he was."

Doctor Logan's gaze softened. "Agent Lisbon, do you know why you are here?"

Exhaling, Lisbon uncrossed her ankles. "Because I was involved in a shooting and I need you to sign off on me."

The good doctor merely shrugged her shoulders. "That is only partly true. Yes, you were involved in a shooting and witnessed a man dying before your eyes just mere seconds after you thought you were going to die. But you are also here because Agent Martin wishes to make sure you all right. This is not just about the shooting, Agent Lisbon, but also about your childhood."

"My childhood?" Lisbon echoed.

Doctor Logan nodded. "Yes, because you came from a home with an alcoholic father and no mother. Agent Martin felt that the parallels between your past and Sasha Mulvie's were so akin that you were required to come see me."

"My father wasn't abusive," Lisbon said quickly.

Lisbon knew that Doctor Logan didn't believe her, but she knew that she still had to try and convince the woman that she was fine. Yes, she grew up primarily motherless and with a numb, alcoholic father, but she also didn't want people to know about it. It wouldn't affect her ability to work a case, as it wasn't pertinent.

Doctor Logan's gaze locked with Lisbon's, her eyes unmoving behind her glasses. Under her gaze, Lisbon shifted in her seat and avoided contact with her eyes. She knew it was a bad move because Doctor Logan was most likely confident that she had been abused as a child.

With a sigh, Doctor Logan changed the subject. "How do you feel about Mister Jane saving your life?"

This brought her attention back to the department shrink. How did she feel? She felt grateful that he had saved her. Jane could have so easily used her as a human shield to protect himself, but he hadn't. He had put his own body between him and Toby Mulvie.

"Agent Lisbon?"

She blinked. "I felt…grateful."

"Grateful how?"

"Jane doesn't…Jane tends to think of himself."

Doctor Logan cocked her head to the side. "What makes you say that?"

"He plays people for his own benefit without thinking about the consequences of his actions and…" she trailed off, mind thinking of whether or not she should open up this "can of worms" and comment how he tends to take women as he pleases.

"And?"

"And he is unfaithful to his wife."

Her voice had almost been a whisper, and Doctor Logan had leaned forward to try and grasp what the young agent had just told her. After taking a few seconds to process and think of a response, Doctor Logan looked up at Lisbon with searching eyes.

"What makes you think he is unfaithful to his wife?"

Lisbon once more shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "If you would see him with some of his clients, you would understand," she said carefully.

Doctor Logan chuckled. "Well, we all know that Mister Jane has a rather charismatic personality."

"No, I meant that he tends to get a little flirtatious with the women…and can be quite forward." She immediately felt her cheeks begin to heat up.

"Some men are just natural flirts," Doctor Logan stated simply. "Tell me, Agent Lisbon, has Mister Jane been forward towards you?"

Now the doctor had an impish look on her face. If she weren't the rookie, she'd sure as hell be plotting Martin's death by now. Maybe Minelli's too, as he had a say in hiring Doctor Logan.

"Interesting." The doctor scribbled down a few notes and looked up once more. "He has been and it is effecting your judgement over him."

Lisbon looked down at her hands and breathed. "He's a married man, he shouldn't be acting like this." She looked up at the doctor. "And this is not effecting my judgement over him. We have been maintaining a strictly professional relationship."

Liar.

The timer trilled, signalling that the session had come to an end. Feeling a huge wave of relief wash over her, Lisbon stood to her feet and brushed off that awkward imaginary dust from her pants.

Holding a hand out to Doctor Logan, she forced herself to smile. "Thank you, Doctor Logan."

The doctor smiled. "See you next week, Agent Lisbon."

Her smile faltering slightly, Lisbon firmly gave the doctor's hand a shake and bid her farewell. Sadly, it wasn't the type of farewell she had been wishing that it were. Taking a peppermint off of the doctor's desk, she stepped out and started towards the elevators. Martin had given her the day off, for some reason, and despite having nothing else better to do, she felt the sudden urge to go for a jog. She would only have to run by her apartment real quick to change.

It took the elevator forever to come to her floor, and it took even longer it seemed to get to the ground floor. When the elevator dinged, signalling its appropriate destination, the doors opened up and Lisbon gladly stepped out from within the metal box.

Digging her hands into her pockets to find her car keys, she started towards the parking lot. When she was about to reach the windowed doors, she caught something out of the corner of her eye. Pausing with her hand on the handle, she merely looked over her shoulder and groaned.

The devil, Patrick Jane.

"Hello to you too, Teresa." Sometimes she wished she could just run away from him without causing a scene. But it would cause too much attention to herself.

"What do you want, Jane?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I was in the neighbourhood…."

"Cut the crap, you live in Malibu."

He leaned against the wall and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Very true, my dear, but I came here to inquire whether or not you would wish to go out to lunch with me."

"No."

Jane smiled. "But Teresa, I drove all the way from Malibu just to see you."

"I don't care."

Pretending to be hurt at her statement, his hand flew to his chest in mock horror. "Why so harsh? I come here, out of the goodness of my heart, and offer to take you out to grab a bite of lunch."

It didn't escape Lisbon that, out of the corner of her eye, she could see two women watching them and swooning over the infuriating man. It sickened her, in a sense.

"Goodness of your heart my ass," she muttered.

The corners of his eyes twitched and she stepped closer to him. "You just want to have sex with me, Jane."

He nodded. "Yes, there's that. But I would also like to eat something, as I really am quite peckish at the moment."

"Peckish?"

"Hungry."

"I know what peckish means!" she snapped, unintentionally drawing more attention to herself. Closing her eyes and leaning closer to him, she began to ask her question. "Why are you doing this? Aren't I just a woman you sleep with whenever you wish?"

Drawing his lips into a thin line, he looked up. "I thought we established that I was wrong."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "A note on my pillowcase doesn't count as you establishing anything, Jane."

Jane nodded. "Fair enough."

Just as she was about to open her mouth and say something, that was when her stomach decided to rumble. Was it really lunchtime already? Well, she guessed jogging would have to wait an hour or so.

And he merely chuckled. "Lunch it is."

~O~

It had taken him an extra seven and a half minutes after her stomach rumbled for him to convince her to go with him to the little Mexican restaurant a couple of blocks from her apartment. And after her stomach had rumbled a few more times, she caved in. They were also getting strange looks from bystanders of the CBI ground floor, and Lisbon didn't appreciate that.

She had seemed uncomfortable at first, as she apparently didn't want to be around him. He decided that he would have to remedy that.

So, as they were looking over their menus, Jane decided that he ought to strike up some form of conversation. Lowering the menu from his line of sight, be reached out with his leg and gently pushed the tip of his shoe into Lisbon's shin. She jumped at the sudden touch.

"What the hell?" She lowered her menu.

Jane smiled. "How was your time with the shrink?"

She was also quite tense, Jane could tell by the stiffness in her shoulders. He also knew that this was her shrink day, as he had been there when Martin had ordered her to go to sessions until Doctor Logan signed off on her.

"Ah, unnerving I see."

Across the able, Jane saw Lisbon readjust her grip on her menu and hold it over her face as if to read it. "It was fine," she mumbled.

He didn't believe her.

Just as he was about to challenge her, the waitress came up to them and asked for what they wanted to order for drinks. As she took their orders, she also placed the basket of freshly fried tortilla chips and a small bowl of salsa in the middle of the table. Lisbon reached over and took a couple of chips to munch on, as if to stall any possible statement Jane was about to make.

"You're translucent, my dear."

From behind the menu he saw her freeze. "I think the reason why you are so tense is because of the shrink visit." He evaluated how she quickly flipped to the other side of the menu, now looking at the various nautical-related dishes. "And I think you do not like talking about your past."

She gripped the menu tighter.

"Correct, I see."

She threw the menu down on the table, effectively throwing Jane off. He blinked at her, wondering what to say to her next. Especially what to say to keep her from doing him any physical harm was definitely needed, as he liked where his important anatomical features that defined him were.

"My past isn't relevant, Jane. Stay out of it."

He looked into her eyes. "Your necklace, it's your mother's, is it not?"

Jane knew he was being a bastard, of course he knew it was her mother's. He just wanted to get a reaction from her and the details of how she had died. And because of his straightforward statement, he watched her eyes go from normal to absolutely on fire, and not in a good way.

Her hand flew to her necklace, touching it. "It's not of your damn business!"

He looked down, feeling like a bastard once more. Lisbon was still looking at him, but she was also in the process of picking up her things and getting ready to leave him in the middle of the restaurant. Oh, that simply wouldn't do.

"Teresa." Her name on his tongue caught her attention and she paused, briefly, and turned to look at him once more. "I'm sorry."

He partially meant it.

"I was wrong to make assumptions." He hadn't been making assumptions; he knew the answer to what he had been asking of her.

"Wrong?"

"Yes."

She set her stuff back down. "What did you mean by that?"

Blinking, Jane fiddled (somewhat, mostly for show) with his menu. He was about to say something when the waitress came by and placed their drinks before them. She asked if they needed a few more minutes, to which Jane told her that they did. When she was gone, he turned back to Lisbon.

"I meant that I shouldn't have said that our relationship meant nothing to me. You do mean something to me, Teresa, whether you like it our not." He evaluated her expression, and was happy with the engaging look she was giving him. "It meant something."

She seemed to sink back into her chair. "Jane…"

Refusing to say anything else, Jane looked up at Lisbon's eyes. They appeared to be enlightened, opened up due to what he had just told her. And he found that he liked the expression that graced her features.

Just as he was about to reach for her hand to pull into his, the waitress came up. With her notepad and pen in hand, she began rattling off her usual questions that she asked every patron.

And Jane felt great reluctance to pull away from the warmth of Lisbon's hand.

~O~

After lunch, Jane had taken Lisbon back to her apartment. He originally planned to take her back to the CBI for her to pick up her car, but she told him she'd bring it home in the morning providing that he took her to work in the morning. He, obviously, didn't say no to that. One does not turn down an invitation of driving a pretty woman to work in the morning.

He thought about asking her about her time spent in the shrink's office, but thought against it. Instead he took finding a movie from her weak stash of DVD's and putting it in to the new system. She sat down beside him, a bit away from him, but beside him nonetheless.

After about forty-five minutes into the movie, he looked over at Lisbon and saw her leaning against the arm of the couch, eyes closed and lightly snoring. Smiling at her, he slowly scooted closer to her and wrapped his arms around her petite body to pull into his. When she was propped up against him, he wrapped his arm loosely around her waist.

They finished the movie like that, him holding her body to his. And they stayed that way until about four in the afternoon when Lisbon began to stir.

At first, she was dazed. She didn't know why she was snuggled up to a warm, male body. After she had blinked the sleep from her eyes, it came to register in her mind that it was all Jane's doing, as he had to have been the one to have moved over. She thought about pushing him away from her and telling him off, but she decided against it and snuggled back into him and sighed.

Despite what her common sense was telling her, she liked being in this moment. In his arms, she felt warm and safe. At this moment, being with him didn't feel wrong.

Sighing, she reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Honestly, she was surprised by her own actions, but felt no guilt at this moment. Not averting her gaze, she untangled herself from his body and moved away from the couch to begin dinner. As she took out the frozen beef to set in the microwave, she looked over at him once more.

No, not at all.

~O~

When Jane felt his eyelids begin to flutter, he smelt cheese and beef merging together. Cracking one eye open and looking in the direction of the kitchen, he saw Lisbon behind the stove, a spatula in her hand as she flipped a beef patty onto a hamburger bun.

Stretching, he smiled and stood. Making his way towards Lisbon, he leaned against the counter. He could tell she knew he was there, as her gaze flickered to him as she began to lay the condiments on the burger.

"Did you make me one?" he asked, more so playfully than seriously.

She nodded, which surprised him. "Yeah, it just has cheese on it, though."

Jane smiled. "I do rather like cheese, Teresa, thank you."

In return, Lisbon turned and smiled to him. She reached over and picked up a small plastic plate and handed it to him. Sure enough, there was a cheesed patty within a bun upon it. He would rather have Monterrey Jack, but American suited him just fine.

As he took the plate, he looked at her, seeing her soft features gaze at him in near-awe. He didn't quite understand it, but it gave him a flood of warmth flush through his body. When he smiled back in return, she looked down and finished with her cheeseburger before heading back to the couch to eat. All he did was put some lettuce atop his cheese and squirt on some mustard before he followed her.

When they finished eating their food, in silence, she set her plate down on the small coffee table and folded her hands in her lap. He watched her closely and followed her actions, sans the folding his hands over his lap.

"This should feel wrong," she started. "But it doesn't anymore."

His gaze was fully on her. "Deep down, I know this is wrong, but I also feel as if it's the right thing to do."

When her gaze met his, he knew what she meant. Well, he did once she had started talking, but he could see the absolute sincerity in her eyes now.

"Even though I am going against all what I hold to be –."

Jane didn't let her finish her sentence. He moved away from his spot on the couch and cradled her face in his hands. Without seeking any sort of approval, his lips met hers in a tender kiss. He pulled away slowly, revelling in being close to her and enjoying the warmth spreading through him once more.

"But this feels right," she finished.

Their lips met once more, this time in a more forceful kiss that had Lisbon being pressed into the back of the couch and her hands reaching up to tangle into his curls. In return, he buried his hand into her hair, tugging so that her mouth would automatically open in a silent gasp. This, he took, as an invitation to push his tongue into her mouth to tangle along with hers in a slow, erotic dance.

Slowly, her hands moved from their place in his hair and came to rest at his sides, her fingertips pressing in. Briefly, he pulled away from her and pressed a chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth before pushing his lips more firmly against hers once more. Instinctively, her arms wound tighter around his body and pulled him closer to her. Being this close to her body made him feel the warmth that was so distinctly Teresa Lisbon, and he loved it.

It was blissfully intoxicating his senses.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

January 29 – 30, 2003

When the sun peeked through the curtains, Jane felt the warm body he shared his bed with curl into his own, her hand splayed out against his chest. Without putting much thought into his actions, he wrapped his arm around her waist and held her there, listening to her hum in approval. He pulled her closer to him and ran a hand absentmindedly through her hair, feeling her wiggle alongside his body.

Feeling her shift in his arms, he was not surprised to feel her lips press against the corner of his mouth. Her hand that had been on his chest slowly began a descent down to his belly, swirling around his navel. She shifted again, nuzzling his ear and pressing a soft kiss behind it.

"Good morning, Patrick," she whispered into his ear.

He moaned. "Mornin', Angela."

Instead of replying to him, she pushed him over to the side and moved over him, straddling his hips. Smirking, Angela leaned down, her hair falling over their faces as her lips brushed against his. She leaned back and pressed her fingertips into his chest, smiling down at him before she leaned back down, kissing him more forcefully.

Reaching up, Jane dragged his fingers through his wife's hair, revelling in the softness of it. His fingers stopped their dragging and cradled the back of her head, angling it to give him better access to the inside of her mouth.

Just as he was about to reach for the straps of his wife's negligee to drag down her arms, his cell phone rung from the end table. Groaning at the interruption, he pushes Angela slightly to the side and reaches for the phone, flipping it open and answering it.

"Hello." He tries to make it sound like he really does not wish to be on the phone at the moment, hoping that the person on the other end will understand that they interrupted something.

"Jane." He was surprised to hear Lisbon's voice on the other end, usually it was either Martin or Simmons who tried to summon him to help with the CBI at odd times of the day.

"We have a new case, how long until you can get to Santa Monica?"

Looking down at his wife, who peered up at him with an annoyed gaze as she toyed with part of her negligee, he spoke into the phone with a sigh. "About two hours."

"Jane? Two hours?"

She sounded disappointed, and he really didn't like hearing that tone from her. "Bye, Lisbon, I'll see you in two hours." And he hit the little red "END" button and looked back down at his wife, who smiled at him.

"Let's make the most of our two hours," she said as her hand buried into his curls.

He smirked against her mouth. "We shall."

~O~

It took Jane three hours before he eventually stumbled upon the crime scene, and Lisbon was furious. Mostly because Martin had been constantly coming up to her and demanding whether or not Jane had arrived. Obviously, she had to tell him no. So when Jane appeared, in the midst of flattening out his hair, Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest and jutted her hip out to the side, to display obvious irritability.

"Good morning!" he said cheerfully.

Lisbon narrowed her eyes, not liking his chipper attitude. "You said two hours and it's been three, Jane."

Smiling at her, he leaned in closer. "Traffic was heavy, Teresa."

She knew that was false as he lived within driving distance of Santa Monica, unlike her. As she was about to call him out on it, Lisbon heard Simmons calling her over, no doubt wanting to know how she's held the crowd back interrupted her.

Simmons most likely wanted to know whether or not Jane had arrived yet, as she assumed that Martin had been asking as well.

Turning her body around to look at Simmons, she gestured towards Jane and started towards the more senior agent. He looked over her shoulder, seeing Jane, and nodding. It was impossible to not miss the relieved smile that appeared on his face at the sight of the wily consultant.

"Do you know why he's late?" Simmons asked once she got close enough.

Lisbon shrugged her shoulders and mumbled her answer, "Traffic, he said."

Simmons chuckled, "You don't believe him?"

Shooting her higher up and annoyed glance, she re-crossed her arms over her chest and looked back at the man in question. Jane stood several feet away, arms clasped together behind his back and occasionally bobbing up and down. He briefly caught Lisbon's eye and winked at her, the corners of his mouth crooking upwards.

"Is there something going on between you two?" Simmons suddenly asked.

"No!"

She cursed herself after speaking, knowing that she spoke too soon. Simmons didn't stop gazing at her questioningly. He was quite close with Flores, the late agent before Cho. And she had a feeling that Flores knew all along about how she and Jane were towards each other. She had a hunch that Flores may have told Simmons of what he thought, as the two frequently dined together for lunch and occasionally dinner during overnight cases.

"Well," Simmons began, "I better go talk to Martin to make sure he knows that Jane's here."

And with that, he left Lisbon alone.

~O~

For that day, Lisbon refused to talk to him. Actually, for the most part, she refused to acknowledge him. Her nonchalant behaviour towards him was quite alarming because he could usually get some sort of reaction out of her.

Around five, he had offered to take her out to dinner. As he assumed she would as soon as the question left his lips, she declined his offer without even giving it the slightest thought beforehand. So, a little after five, he departed back to Malibu.

Angela had been surprised by his sudden arrival at home, assuming that he would have gone out with the team and spend the night in town like he usually did. Well, actually, he usually met up with a woman of sorts and slept with her as a one-night-stand. But tonight, he felt no desire to do so. Therefore, he returned back to his Malibu home to surprise his wife and child.

Charlotte was delighted.

When he opened the door to the house, she was instantly before him and hugging onto his legs, asking him all sorts of questions. In a response to her behaviour, he grasped onto her underarms and hoisted her upwards and let her rest on his hip.

"Did you catch the bad guy, daddy?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "Not yet, sweetie."

Ever since he started working with the CBI, Charlotte loved hearing stories and tales about the men (and women) he helped them arrest for various heinous crimes. Of course, he'd give Charlotte the more fantastical versions of those stories rather than the more gruesome details.

"When are you gonna catch him?"

He kissed her on the nose. "Soon, soon."

Knowing she was about to ask more questions, he placed one of his hands on the middle of her back and began to spin her around. It was fun, to interact this way with his daughter. And he also revelled in the ability to make her giggle with so much glee that her joy became instantly contagious.

"Patrick…" Angela's voice came from the kitchen and he turned to look at her. "Stop," she told him with a smile.

Smiling back at his wife, he set Charlotte back down on the ground. "Dinner will be ready soon, you guys."

Charlotte awed in response to her mother, as she knew that meant to go to the bathroom and wash up. She hated doing that and Jane smiled, knowing that he sometimes caught his daughter just running the water down the drain and playing around with the soap.

"No but's, young lady," Angela told Charlotte sternly. "Go wash up."

Watching Charlotte go, Angela turned to Jane and smiled, walking up to him. Instantly he felt the warmth enter the room as she gazed at him with smoldering eyes. It was different for her to look at him like that. Finally coming up to him, she placed her hands on his chest and began to unbutton the first two fastens to his shirt.

"Have you ever," she punctuated her statement by placing a firm kiss to his lips, "thought about having another baby?"

His eyes opened in surprise. Sure, they talked about it, but it was a long time ago. Charlotte had been no more than two years old when they originally were thinking about giving her a sibling. But due to financial issues, they decided against it and put it off to later on.

"Ange.…"

"We can do it, Patrick."

And with that statement, he pulled back to look into her eyes and that's when he saw what she really wanted. Angela thought their marriage was in trouble, and she had for a while, and to remedy that she thought it would be best to try for another baby. In all actuality, Jane would like to have another child, but not now. Things would be too complicated if they were to have another baby.

"Angela," he said softly. "Now's not a good time."

"What do you mean?" she asked, stepping back from him.

He sighed, not knowing how to say what he was about to say easily. "You think our marriage is in trouble, Angela, and you think it will be saved by having another child."

Blinking, Angela pulled even more away from him and her cheeks began to redden. Her hands clenched into fists, but she let them loose and scratched the back of her head before returning to the kitchen. Jane watched her go, suddenly feeling guilty over the awkwardness and strain he just brought forth once more.

They ate in silence, sans Charlotte's innocent rambling about her day at school.

~O~

Leaning against the wall for support, Lisbon sighed. Extremely fatigued, she wished that a bathtub were available to her rather than a shower. She wanted a nice and long soak in a tub to make her feel wonderful after a long day of crowd control duty.

And chasing that guy down that Jane ostracised, as Simmons was in no condition to chase down suspects given his current body mass.

Her muscles in her shoulder hurt horribly to the point where she didn't want to move hardly at all. She knew it was going to take a lot of effort to make her way over to the bed despite the small distance, so she slid down to the floor.

Placing her head against the wall, she closed her eyes and sighed. She needed a nice long vacation, she decided. March was a good time of year for that, so she ought to talk to Martin about taking some time off. Smiling and humming at the delight of her decision, she leaned further into the wall.

Within a few minutes, just as she was about to fall asleep, Lisbon heard the sound of a knock at the door. Furrowing her brow and groaning as she stood, she walked over to the door and opened it without looking into the little peephole. She already knew who it would be on the other side, so there was no need to add to the pain and stand on her toes to look to see whom it was.

As expected, it was Jane.

"Good evening, Teresa," he said to her.

She leaned against the doorframe with a wince. "I'm not really feeling too well, Jane."

His gaze softened. "How so?" he asked.

Almost shrugging her shoulders, and catching herself, Lisbon tossed her head slightly to the side. "It's nothing, really."

He continued to look at her. "It has to do with you tackling Kyle Greene, doesn't it."

It wasn't a question, Lisbon concluded quickly. He had been there once she set off after the man and tackled him, causing her shoulder to directly hit against the concrete ground.

So, instead of lying to him, Lisbon told him the truth. "Yeah, it's because of tackling Greene."

Jane drew his lips into a thin line and she found herself wanting to ask why he was here. She wasn't in the mood for sex and nor was her body, clearly he would notice this. Unless, of course, he had nowhere else to go.

Softening her gaze, she moved a little bit off of the doorframe. "Why are you here, Patrick?"

She didn't call him by his first name very often, but when she did she could tell that it had a direct effect on him. And by just hearing his name leave her lips, his eyes had snapped up to meet hers.

"I need you."

Her gaze faltered. "I just said that—."

"I know."

He reached for her and brushed his fingertips down the side of her arm. "And we don't have to do…that," he told her.

Nodding, she moved away from the doorframe, allowing him into the motel room. Without a word, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. As soon as the door clicked shut, Jane's hands cupped her face and he leaned in, pressing a long and soft kiss to her lips.

He pulled away from her, his hands running down the sides of her neck until his fingertips reached the buttons of her shirt. Slowly, he unbuttoned her shirt and pushed it off of her shoulders, taking the time to brush his fingertips over the skin as it was exposed. With much grace, he turned her body around and ran his hands, more firmly this time, down her back. She shivered, feeling goose bumps prickle out down the length of her spine.

Feeling him lean in, Lisbon felt his breath against the shell of her ear. "Better?" he asked.

With a shaky sigh, Lisbon nodded her affirmation. "Yeah."

Behind her, Lisbon heard a distinct low rumble coming from Jane's shirt. Usually that meant one thing – sex. Despite that usual tell, Jane's hands still smoothed over her shoulders, fingers cupping the skin and digging in.

As soon as he had dug his fingers into her sore muscles, she gasped and sat more upright. The action had caused a wave of pain to move throughout her body and she found herself moaning. Knowing that he had accidentally hurt her, Jane's hands stilled, waiting a few moments before he started up again. This time he kept things slow and controlled but effective all the same. She was glad for this, as she needed something gentler than what he had originally started out doing.

When the tension started to leave her shoulders, she felt his breath on her ear once more. It didn't take long for his breath to leave its spot and begin a trail down the side of her neck. Hearing another low rumble in the back of his throat, Lisbon felt Jane's hands slide down her back once more and grip her hips. Without a word, he pulled her close until she was flush up against the front of his body.

Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck, working his way up. Pausing at her jaw, Jane began to layer multiple kisses to one spot, one hand begin its trek upwards towards her breasts. Just before his hand could reach its desired destination, Lisbon intertwined her hand in his, stopping the journey.

Against her neck, Jane groaned his disagreement with her actions and began trailing the second hand up to her, which she stopped as well. Lifting his head away from her neck, Jane peered down at her.

"Not tonight."

Nodding, he leaned in and nuzzled the side of her neck with his nose. Shifting his head, he ghosted his lips down the side of her neck until he reached the juncture point. He placed his mouth there, teeth grazing the flesh as he sucked on the skin.

"Patrick!"

With a pop as his mouth left her skin, he smirked and pulled her closer to him as he started towards the bed. Her hands left his and he trailed his back towards her hips, grasping onto them as he lifted her onto the bed. Wordlessly, he undid his own shirt and threw it on the ground. His shoes, socks, and pants followed his shirt as slid onto the bed beside her. And without much further ado, he undid the remainder of her garments until she was left in nothing but her panties.

Holding her close, Jane pulled the top layer of a blanket over them. By the time he looked down, he saw that she had already fallen asleep in his arms. With a smile, he let slumber overtake him.

~O~

Angela didn't know what to think of her husband anymore. She knew he had been having affairs for at least eighteen months now, as she wasn't stupid in the slightest. He wasn't the only one that was able to see things.

With a plaintive sigh, she looked back at her sleeping daughter, Charlotte. Sometimes she did this, go into her daughter's room at night, and just watch her. Charlotte was the one good thing that seemed to come out of her and Patrick's marriage, because now there was nothing but lies and cheats.

She wanted him to stop going to television and to stop seeing his clients. Around Christmas she told him this, but he merely informed her that they would lose everything. And the last thing she really wanted to lose was their Malibu home, a perk that came with the lies and deceit.

Well, hopefully she could get him to leave the CBI, she thought. Nothing good came from there, as long as Teresa Lisbon worked there. No, she wasn't blind and she knew that her husband was screwing the young agent. She was almost confident that he was right now, as he left to "catch a break on the case" at such an untimely hour. No, there was no break; he was no doubt having sexual relations with the younger woman.

Leaning into her chair, a teardrop began to roll down the length of her cheek.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

March 10, 2003

It was calm and spring was swiftly approaching.

And Teresa Lisbon was on vacation.

Well, sort of. Lately she had felt waves of severe fatigue overcome her body and the sense of an illness coming. So, without much further ado, she took a few days off to recuperate within the confines of her apartment. Because the day before had been a Sunday, she already hadn't done anything the day before.

When she had called in an hour ago, Martin sounded a bit stressed, (partially because she heard Jane on the other end, talking loudly about something irrelevant) but informed her that Cho could take care of everything she usually worked on. Also known as, Cho was on crowd control duty.

A nice change, really.

With a groan, Lisbon rolled over onto her back and brought her hands over her abdomen. She'd been feeling these cramps originating from her lower abdomen since Friday, and it was rapidly starting to become unsettling. Usually it meant that her "visitor" would be coming soon, but it was usually gone by now.

Wincing as another cramp struck her, Lisbon moved off of her bed and started towards the bathroom. The last wave of discomfort left her feeling nauseated and as if she were about to lose her meagre breakfast.

Groaning again, she lifted the toilet seat and hunched over it, feeling her stomach reject its contents. When she felt that she was done, Lisbon reached for a square of toilet tissue and brought it to her face. Wiping the bile away and flushing the toilet, she stood and glanced into the mirror. She was pale and underneath the fluorescent lights of her bathroom, she looked nearly transparent.

Yet again she felt a cramp rake through her body, causing her to double over and clutch towards her bedroom. Just as her hand reached up to flick the fan to push the smell of vile vomit out of the room, she heard the sound of a door opening and closing.

Perking her head up in alert, she slowly shifted her weight and started to reach for the end table, which contained a glock. Carefully, she opened up the drawer and pulled out the gun and began to quietly walk towards her bedroom door, gun ready.

"Teresa?"

Groaning and tossing her head back briefly, she wished that it would be acceptable to shoot Patrick Jane just this once. She wasn't feeling well (obviously) and he was now taking advantage of the key he took from her three weeks ago.

Letting her hand fall to her side, gun still in hand, she pushed the door open and stepped through the doorframe, giving Jane one of her "I hate you, go away" looks. At the sight of her, the smile fell from his face and he walked up to her, his face full of concern.

"Teresa…."

He reached for her, his hand resting on her forehead to gauge her temperature. "Feels all right," he mumbled, eyes moving over her body in evaluation. "How bad do you feel?"

Lisbon shifted her weight distribution and tossed her head slightly to the side. "I feel sick," she told him.

"Your symptoms, Teresa."

Furrowing her brow, but wincing almost instantly, Lisbon recalled her symptoms. Nausea and vomiting, stomach cramps, and fatigue. Her body was also sore in general. The soreness came with the job as did the fatigue, but the nausea not so much unless she sees maggots nibbling at dead flesh.

Oh.

Just the thought of the maggots in her mind wiggling about between dying tissue and eating it caused her stomach to lurch and for her to drop the gun on the ground. She all but ran to the kitchen sink and felt her stomach heave upwards as acidic bile emitted from her body.

Her entire form was shuddering as she tried to expel bodily fluids, but failed to do so. Behind her, she felt Jane's hand on the middle of her back and the other pulling her hair away. Coughing into the sink, her hands braced onto the countertop around it.

"Shh," Jane soothed her.

Jane's hand left from its place behind her back as he turned around and began pulling out a cup and a water bottle from the refrigerator. Truthfully, she'd like something with a bit more flavour to it, but she had no other thing to drink unless one counted spoiled orange juice.

Feeling the sensations of vomiting slowly begin to dissipate away, Lisbon pulled away from the sink and caught Jane's eyes. Slowly, he poured the contents of the water bottle into the glass and handed it to her. Gratefully, she took it from him and took a couple of slow sips before she once again met his gaze.

"Teresa…."

Some how she knew what he was going to ask her.

Putting the glass down on the counter, she shook her head in denial. Now she felt insecure that he was wondering the same questions that she found her mind wandering on about. She had never pictured herself to be a mother, ever. Not after what had happened with her own mother, she didn't want to risk the chance of her dying in the field and leaving her child alone.

"I don't know," she told him.

Slowly, Jane nodded his head. "I'll be right back."

Turning, Jane left the kitchen area and headed for the door, plucking his keys up from the table. Lisbon watched him go, her arms wrapped around her petite body as shivers wracked her frame.

She couldn't possibly be.

~O~

Jane felt tense as he moved around the convenience store. When Angela had been pregnant with Charlotte, Jane had merely come home to her with a wide smile and a plastic stick in her hand. With Lisbon, however, he had to participate in discovering whether or not she was with child.

"Can I help you?" a female employee asked him upon entering the section woman's section.

Glancing at her and drawing his lips into a thin line, he smiled sheepishly. "No, I think I have found what I am looking for."

The employee woman smiled. "Congratulations, Mister Jane."

Rather than continuing on towards the other side of the aisle, he paused and turned towards the woman. "I beg your pardon?"

The woman fumbled with her hands. "I've seen you on TV, and I can't help but notice you in this aisle." She looked at him, slightly embarrassed. "You and your wife are expecting?"

Immediately blanching, Jane shook his head. "Uh, no, it's not for my wife." The woman's smile began to falter. "It's for a friend."

Smiling in an embarrassed manner, the woman recovered. "That's very nice of you, Mister Jane."

In return, he gave her a quick smile and started towards the other end of the aisle. He paused before the shelves of boxes and quickly plucked one box up with two pregnancy tests within it. Already reaching behind into his jacket for his wallet, he turned around to face the employee woman once more.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

A blush rose up on the young woman's cheeks. "I was wondering if you could tell me how my mother is doing right now." He raised his eyebrow at her. "She's dead, you see."

Jane blinked a couple of times before he let her question sink in. She was asking him to give her a cold reading on her deceased mother. He could do it no problem.

Closing his eyes dramatically and setting the pregnancy test to the side, he reached for the woman's hand. "What is your name?" he asked her.

"L-Lucy!"

"Lucy, your mother has been gone since you were a child, y-yes?" He wanted to speed this along and get back to Lisbon as soon as possible.

He had let his voice waver for a second, taking the hitch in her breath as a confirmation. "She misses you, Lucy. She misses you so much and loves you so."

Peeking one eye open, he saw the glassy stare of Lucy the employee looking up at the ceiling. Lucy was young, maybe twenty-two at the most and no doubt trying her best to get through a community college. She was engaged, he discovered when he felt the small diamond ring against his thumb.

"Your mother is very proud of you, Lucy, and admires your ability to find such a wonderful man. She wishes that she could see you two wed in person and wants you to know that she approves. She approves, Lucy, and wants nothing more than you to live a long life with your fiancé."

Hearing a choked back sob, Jane knew that he was doing his job well. "She would also like to see you two give her grandchildren."

He felt Lucy's hand tighten in hers. "Does she know?" she asked.

Of course, she was pregnant. Meaning he was surrounded by them. Possibly.

"Yes, she knows about the child Lucy. A beautiful baby boy you are to have, and she already loves him so much."

Lucy pulled her hands away from him and caught her face with them. Before him, the young woman was a watery mess and he felt like getting away, but it also gave him a hint of satisfaction that it was a job well done.

"I-I'll r-ring you up o-o-ver here," she sniffled.

Nodding at her, Jane picked the box back up from the shelf and followed her lead towards the register in the cosmetics section. Rather than paying for it, she just merely scanned the pregnancy test and handed it back to him, free of charge.

"Thank you, Mister Jane."

He smiled falsely. "You are more than welcome, Lucy."

~O~

After waiting for thirty minutes, Lisbon was relieved to see Jane come through the door with a box in hand. Well, she was more so relieved that he hadn't left her. She wasn't quite relieved to see the daunting little box in her hands, meaning she was expected to pee on it in a matter of minutes or so. She knew that she could do it; after all, she had drunk four cups of water whilst waiting for him to return on her couch.

Somewhat awkwardly, Jane handed her the box and watched her closely. Without saying a word, she took it from his grasp and walked into the bathroom a few steps away from the couch.

Looking back over her shoulder as she closed the door, she saw Jane sit down the couch, his hands clasped together in his lap as he looked downwards. In return, she shifted her eyes down and closed the door softly.

Taking a quick moment to read over the directions on the back of the box, she clumsily pulled the plastic stick from it and headed over to the toilet. Inhaling deeply and willing her nausea to go away, she preformed the test and capped it. Once done, she laid it on the bathroom countertop and washed her hands.

Clutching the knobs on the sink tightly, Lisbon closed her eyes and sighed. She shifted her footing and opened her eyes to stare at her reflection. She still looked pale, but there was a slight blush to her cheeks. A good sign, right?

Hesitantly, she took one of her hands off of the knob and brought it over to rest on her abdomen, sliding it lower until it rested just below her navel. A baby could be nestled in there, she thought. A life that is a part of her and Patrick Jane.

Looking down nervously at the test, Lisbon jumped when she heard a knock on the bathroom door followed by it opening. Jane appeared, peeking in slowly. "Uh, is everything all right?"

She tried to give him a smile, but failed to do so. Instead, she followed his eyes to where her hand rested. To anyone looking in on the outside, they'd say that she was expecting their child.

"Yeah, I have about thirty more seconds or so," she told him.

Nodding, Jane rubbed the palms of his hands on his pants and entered the room. He held her gaze for a short amount of time before he reached for the test and picked it up from its spot on the countertop. Slowly, he held it up so that he could see it. With trepidation, Lisbon moved so that her body was pressed against his, her head resting on his upper arm as he moved it around her body to rest over her hand. Closing her eyes and opening them again, she exhaled and looked at the stick in his hands. There was one little faint line evident on the little screen, indicating that she was not pregnant. With relief, Lisbon smiled and took her hand away from her belly.

"I was so –." She couldn't even finish her sentence, as Jane threw the test into the sink and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips. He pulled away quickly, a smile on his face, and mumbled something about her needing a breath mint and wanting some eggs.

He promptly left the room, looking back at her once he reached the doorframe. Once he was gone, her smile slowly began to fade. Yes, she had resigned to the fact that she doubted that she would ever have children, but this little scare got her thinking about the future.

And with Patrick Jane, she had no future.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

March 30-31, 2003

It was Sunday, and in the Jane household, that was the day of the week to go to the supermarket and purchase the weekly necessities. Which was also code for Angela running those errands and Jane staying home with Charlotte. They were all right with these arrangements, seeing as they were routine. But for some odd reason it seemed as if Angela had returned home from the local market in a foul mood. Or a more determined one to make Jane's life miserable.

"I want you to quit," Angela said, entering the kitchen with the last supermarket bag. "We have more than enough money right now."

With a sigh, Jane looked over at his wife. This wasn't the first time Angela had asked him to stop honing in on his talents lately. "Ange, we've talked about this."

She slammed a cupboard door closed as she put away the new package of sugar. "I get a bad feeling with this, Patrick!" she exclaimed. "And I don't think it's a good example for Charlotte."

Rolling his eyes, Jane took another sip of his tea. Whenever Angela wanted him to do something, she would always bring up Charlotte's wellbeing and hope that it would manipulate him into doing what she wanted him to do.

"Besides, you know I don't let her watch you on the TV."

Setting his tea cup on the table, Jane shifted his feet and leaned forward. "I'll quit soon, I promise."

Angela turned to him, her hands on her hips. "You said that last time," she narrowed her eyes.

"Last time wasn't that long ago," he defended, as he picked up his tea again.

Jane was surprised that Angela's eyes could narrow even further. "You said that back in December, Patrick. It's almost April."

"Time flies when you're having fun." He smiled and took a sip.

For a few more moments, Angela stared at him, but turned away to finish unpacking the groceries. And out of the corner of his eye he could tell that she was still glancing over at him. He acted like a bastard, he knew, but he was right. He enjoyed his time working as a psychic and enjoyed the money more. Angela also liked the money; after all, it gave her the house they lived in and other nice things. It always annoyed him whenever she would try to get him to stop working the way he was meant to work.

She even occasionally tried to make him stop working with the police last week, saying that she worried every time he was working out in the field. Jane knew that was only partially correct, as she mostly worried about whether or not he was out bedding Agent Lisbon instead.

Which was true, he was sleeping with her.

Throwing away the last grocery bag, Angela turned to her husband with her lips drawn tightly into a thin line. "I'm going to go get Charlotte from the Charelston's."

He nodded. "Okay."

That was another reason why Angela was quite upset with him, as he had decided to take Charlotte over to her friend Wendy Charleston's house rather than watch her like he had promised. Honestly, he didn't see the harm in it. Charlotte had wanted to go over there, but Angela apparently didn't like it when Charlotte went over to a friend's house on Sundays because that was her "spend time with daddy day."

And with that, Angela left the kitchen.

~O~

Smearing a glob of peanut butter on a piece of bread, Lisbon glanced over at the clock propped against the counter and the wall. It was about two in the afternoon and she had accomplished absolutely nothing. She hadn't even attended mass like she normally did on Sundays.

She blames Patrick Jane.

Ever since her pregnancy scare earlier in the month, Lisbon had been adamant about seeing Jane. The few times they had had a case with him working on it, they would only exchange glances and nothing more. Well, they talked when it was necessary in order to remain civil and keep Martin from thinking that there was something between them.

With a sigh, she set the peanut butter coated knife down and pushed the two pieces of bread together. Lifting the bread to her mouth, she took a bite and furthered her thoughts. Maybe this was a good thing, not talking to Jane or seeing very little of him. Not only did her pregnancy scare make her feel less inclined to be around him, but it also opened her eyes at the idea that it wouldn't ever work for them. And that she (and his family) would most likely get hurt in the end.

What the hell had she been thinking? From the start she had known that building an affair with Patrick Jane was an idiotic idea that wouldn't play out well in the end. And what did she do? She kissed him, had sex with him, and nearly got herself pregnant with their love child.

Seriously, what the hell had she been thinking?

Groaning, she set her plate in the sink and slowly trudged over towards her beat up couch. She knew better than to get involved with a married man, and what did she do? Get involved with the asshole.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

She had absolutely no future with the man, why hadn't she remembered that right away? Why couldn't she simply be strong and avoid him altogether? Well, now she is to turn over a new leaf, she decided. No more Patrick Jane.

No more.

~O~

"Thank you!" Jane waved with a false cheeriness to the Charleston matriarch as he took Charlotte's hand. Once the door had closed, he looked down at her beautiful daughter and smiled, this time genuine.

"Did you have a good time, Sweetheart?"

Charlotte nodded, her curls bouncing atop her head. "Yes, Daddy! Me and Wendy played with her new dollhouse!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! And the dolls were bears!"

Jane smiled and opened the door for his daughter. "Is that right?"

Charlotte nodded again, beaming up at her father. "Daddy, can I get bear-dolls too?"

Buckling her into her seat, Jane kissed her cheek. "I'm all for it."

"Can we go now?"

Seeming to weigh the options, he smiled and nodded. "I don't see why not."

"Yay!"

Closing the door and moving to the other side to open his, Jane slid in and started the engine. He knew Angela would be upset over this, as she has told him on numerous occasions that Charlotte has enough toys (and dollhouses). But the small little fact that Angela continuously kept on forgetting that it was not her money, but his. Therefore, he had the right to do as he pleased with it. And if he wanted to spend the money on his daughter, then he would most definitely spend the money on his daughter. So, without much further ado, he put the car in gear and started off towards the local strip mall in hopes of finding these bear-dolls that Charlotte seemed to desire.

Little did he know that in the midst of searching for the bear-dolls, (Sylvanian Families, is what they're apparently called) Charlotte would set her eyes on numerous toys around them. And much to her joy, he bought her not only a large bear, (that wasn't a doll) but also a new dollhouse, countless furniture, and a new family (bunnies, actually. Not bears).

Angela was going to be pissed off.

As he loaded the newly purchased goods in the back of his car, Charlotte handed him a small bag that she pulled from the cart and hugged the lower part of his body. Smiling, he patted her head and heard her mumble a "thank you, Daddy."

"Let's get you home. Wouldn't want to waste another moment of the day when you could be setting up your new dollhouse!"

Charlotte beamed up at him and quickly settled herself into her seat, waiting only for him to buckle her up. And for the rest of the ride home, she continued to be jittery as she anticipated playing with her new family, talking about it in an excited manner until he pulled into their driveway. Upon cutting the engine, Charlotte quickly unbuckled herself and stepped out of the car. With a smile, Jane opened the trunk and started pulling out some of the bags. Charlotte picked them up and started towards the house with an even bigger smile than earlier plastered onto her face.

Holding onto one of the big bags in one hand and the keys in the other, he started after Charlotte to open the door for her. But when he was about to stick the key in the hole, it was wrenched open and he was face to face with Angela, who looked down at her daughter and then at her husband. Her gaze, in the end, wound up on the packages in their hands.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Before he was able to say anything, Charlotte piped up, "Daddy got me S-Silveranian Family, Mommy!"

Furrowing her eyebrows, Angela moved away from the door to allow Charlotte to enter, but blocked it once her husband came up to the door. "What did you do?"

He shrugged and readjusted his hold on the bag. "When I picked her up from the Charleston's, she expressed –."

"Patrick, you should have told her no."

"Why? She's my daughter."

Angela sighed. "And mine as well. I don't want you spoiling her.…"

Looking over his shoulder, and no doubt seeing the giant plush bear in the backseat, she sighed. "You got her a giant bear, too?"

"It's my money."

"Our money, Patrick."

He shrugged her off and started to move towards the interior of the house. "I've been making it. Therefore it's mine."

"Patrick, stop."

He did stop. And he also turned to his wife. "No, you stop. Why do you need to get upset every time I bring Charlotte home with something?"

Angela gestured to the car. "Because you insist on buying her too expensive and too superfluous things! She doesn't need a giant bear! She doesn't need all this…stuff!"

"I want her to have it!" he defended.

"And I don't want her thinking she can have everything!"

"Why can't she?"

Angela put her hands on her hips. "Because this is real life, Patrick. You can't have everything! And I don't want her growing up thinking that she can have everything and that her daddy will get her anything she wants at any waking moment!"

"She's almost six-years-old, Ange!"

"And too old for –."

"Mommy?" The two adults halted their argument at the sound of their child. "Did me and Daddy do a bad thing?"

Turning to Jane, Angela gave him a sour look before she walked over to her daughter and knelt before her. "No, you didn't do a bad thing. Daddy should have asked me first before buying you all these things."

"Are they going back to the store?" Charlotte's eyes started to well up with tears.

"No," Jane said.

Angela shot him a look over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. No, she didn't plan on making Charlotte return the new toys, but she wanted to make sure that Charlotte knew that she was not to ask her father for new stuff like this without asking her permission.

"Sweetie, go up to your room. Daddy and I are going to talk."

"You're going to yell at him, aren't you?" Charlotte started to cry.

"No, I'm not going to yell at him. I promise."

Angela kissed the top of Charlotte's head and patted her shoulder. Muttering a soft "off you go," Charlotte started to slowly climb the stairs towards her bedroom. Angela waited until she heard the soft click of her door before she turned back on her husband. Narrowing her eyes once more, she brushed past him and Jane instantly knew that he was in trouble, to an extent, with her.

"I'm not going to yell at you, Patrick."

He nodded. "That's good, that you didn't lie to our daughter."

Anger started to rise in Angela's eyes, he could tell, but she quickly snuffed it out. "But that still won't change how I feel about this. I have told you many times that you can't buy her everything! It's only going to get worse and I really don't want to deal with a spoiled teenager in about eight or so years."

Looking down at his shoes, Jane drew another trick out of his metaphorical hat. "I do not want her to grow up like us."

Returning his gaze up to his wife's Jane noted how her expression softened. "She isn't, Patrick. She is just growing up to be the beautiful little girl that we always wanted. Just a little more spoiled than we would have liked."

~O~

It was well past midnight when she decided on going to bed that night and she knew that she had come to the decision to break things off with Jane. She'd do tomorrow, she decided. Well, today, as it would not be best if she were to break it off on the first of April. Knowing Jane, he'd act like it was a joke and come back to her like a pesky weed.

Settling into her bed and reaching out to turn off the lamp on her bedside table, Lisbon heard her phone begin to vibrate. With a groan, she picked it off the table and flipped it open.

"Lisbon," she grumbled.

"Teresa."

She froze, not really having expected it to be him calling her. She'd expected that it would be Martin calling her to inform her of a new case and wishing for her presence. But no, it was Patrick Jane.

"It's late," she replied.

"I know," he said softly.

Sitting up and straightening her spine, she held the phone tighter to her ear. "Are you okay?"

Where the hell did this concern come from? She was supposed to be getting him out of her life!

He sounded preoccupied. "Yeah, I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Upset with me still, I realise."

"Jane…."

"Really upset, I take it. You haven't called me Jane in awhile."

"You just woke me up!" she tried to defend herself.

There was no delay in his next phrase. "No, you've been awake."

"No."

"Why are you trying to argue with me, Teresa?"

She hesitated and listened to him sigh on the other end of the phone. "You don't want us to continue."

"No, I don't."

He sighed again and she felt a pang hit her in the heart. Despite all of the coaching she has done these past few weeks, she still found it hard to try and stop this…relationship and affair. It made her feel weak and sad.

"It would be for the best, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, it would."

Clutching onto the cell phone tighter, she knew her voice began to waver. "I'll see you around, I guess. "

"You're sweet."

Biting her lip and diverting her eyes, she felt a teardrop roll down the apple of her cheek. With her breath hitched in her throat, she simply told him, "Goodnight, Patrick."

He didn't reply to her on the other end, but she did hear the soft click followed by silence. As soon as she was sure he was gone, she let her hand fall from its place by her ear and she let the tears fall more freely. Her relationship with him had affected her more than she had known from the start, and she found it strangely hard to part her ways with him.

Inhaling sharply, she set the phone down and turned off the light once more. Settling down under the blankets, she closed her eyes in a desperate plea to sleep. But sleep would not come to her, as it avoided her as if telling her that it detested her decision.

"You're sweet."

His voice still rang in her head clearly like a bell.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

April 21, 2003

Flipping the crime scene tape over her head, Lisbon continued walking onto the scene. From what she had heard from Cho, who had called her rather than Martin, it was a gruesome murder. And she also heard that Jane suspected that it was the husband. After all, it was a murder after a messy divorce. Taking a deep breath, she stood before Martin with her hands dug into her pockets.

"Sir," she nodded in acknowledgement.

Martin turned to look at his former rookie and tipped his head. "Did Cho give you all the details?"

"Yes, Sir," Lisbon responded.

Nodding his head, Martin turned and gestured over for someone to come over. Looking around him, Lisbon watched as the medical examiner stood up from the body of the dead woman and walk over to where they stood. A rather older man with a balding head, Doctor Steiner still proved to be good at his work.

"Agent Martin, good morning," Steiner said.

"What have you got for us, Doctor Steiner?"

Doctor Steiner looked over at the deceased and sighed. "Her death was no more than five hours ago and caused by a blunt object. Pity, she was a pretty thing." The medical examiner then turned back until his gaze settled on Lisbon. His eyes instantly brightened and his face seemed to flush a little.

Lisbon raised her eyebrows. "Thank you for your time, Doctor," she said.

The medical examiner's ears tinged a brighter colour than they had been previously and he bowed down a bit at the knees before he started heading back to the body. As he walked away, Lisbon followed his form with her eyes, obviously perturbed by his reaction towards her. Strange, she thought, as she started to walk away.

But as she was about to walk away from the medical examiner, she heard a brief "Oh no," from Martin and turned to look back at Steiner. Jane had started over towards the medical examiner, his eyebrows drawn together to form the pensive look on his face as he knelt down and whispered something in Steiner's ear.

She turned back to Martin briefly. "What's wrong?"

Martin rubbed the side of his face, perturbed by what Jane was most likely saying to Steiner. "Those two…don't like each other."

"How so?" she asked.

Martin shrugged. "I don't really know. That case, the one where you were sick, Steiner filed a hefty complaint against Jane."

"Ah," Lisbon said as she saw Steiner stand up suddenly out of the corner of her eye. Quite abruptly, if she may add.

"I beg your pardon?" Steiner asked, his voice raised a few octaves.

Jane smiled and made a gesture towards Lisbon. Groaning, Lisbon started her way towards the poor coroner and the wily consultant to break up whatever pissing contest (of a sorts) they were about to partake in.

"Jane!" she yelled after the consultant. "Leave him alone!"

Jane, still grinning from ear to ear due to whatever he had just said, looked up at Lisbon. And at her appearance, she watched as the smile slowly moved down Jane's face to a more stoic expression. Strange, she thought, but nonetheless annoying.

"Why Teresa, you are upset that I was defending your honour?" he teased.

She stood before them both, her arms crossing over her chest. "He wasn't doing anything."

The corners of Jane's mouth went up in a small smirk. "Oh, he was doing plenty." He gestured towards Steiner. "He was shamefully imagining you lying upon his bed naked tonight. Inappropriate behaviour for a government official."

"You're embarrassing him," she said. "Myself included."

Jane placed his hand over his heart and cocked his head to the side. "You aren't even the slightest bit flattered?"

She opened her eyes. "No."

Slowly, his hand moved down his chest to rest at his side once more. "Uh, Teresa, may I have a word with you by the car?"

"No."

Jane took a couple of steps towards her, bringing his face closer towards her. "Yes."

~O~

Jane leaned against one of the Suburbans and waited for Lisbon to come up beside him. She did not want to be around him, which was understandable given their recent "break up." Well, if they could even call it that.

He had spent nearly a month away from her. The few cases he worked over the past weeks only needed simple and brief visits to Sacramento. And for those few cases, he had only briefly seen her, much less been in the same room with her. Now, however, they had been called to Fresno. An out of town case usually entailed eating together (with everyone else, of course) and sleeping in the same hotel. Though, luckily for him, he decided to stay at the more upscale hotel rather than the same one she was staying at with the team.

Shaking his head for a second, he rolled up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. Once satisfied, he leaned back into the vehicle and crossed his arms over his chest. Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, he let it out through his mouth. As the breath escaped past his lips, he felt the hair prickle on the back of his neck followed by the sound of a twig snapping beneath a shoe.

"I'm here, Jane. Now what do you want?"

Such animosity, he thought.

"How are you, Teresa?" he asked.

Taken aback by his question, Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her stance. It was like she was trying to pull protective layer over another protective layer. Walls, of some sort, to protect herself from his questions. Obviously there was hurt from their "break up" and it would probably last for a little bit of time. Hence why he asked how she was.

"Why are you asking?"

He looked at her in the eyes. "Just answer the question, Teresa."

"You already know the answer," she told him.

Nodding, he pushed himself away from the Suburban and took a couple of steps closer to her. "Yes, I do already know the answer. And I just now confirmed it." Lisbon raised an eyebrow at him. "You are still upset and a bit angry."

"No I am no-"

He cocked his head to the side. "Please, don't lie to me. Or to yourself."

Lisbon's eyes widened. "I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are! It's written all over your face."

"Jane, quit it with that psychic crap!"

He shook his head. "It has nothing to do with that, it's all science. Human behaviour, to be exact."

"Oh?"

"Yes," he nodded, "and it's written plainly all over your face. Never try to lie to me, Teresa, because I can always tell when you are lying to me."

Lisbon narrowed her eyes and shook her head. "Oh, that is a bunch of bullshi—."

"Agent Lisbon?"

Smiling and leaning back against the car, Jane watched as Lisbon whirled around to face Simmons. The man had just arrived on the scene, no doubt having a rough morning with his family, and gazed at the duo questioningly.

"Agent Simmons!" she gasped. "Good morning!"

Nodding his head towards Lisbon and then pausing to look at Jane, Simmons peered back at Lisbon. "Is everything all right here?"

"Yes," she breathed out.

"Are you sure, Lisbon?"

"Yes, Agent Simmons."

Jane chuckled a little, noting that Lisbon's voice was still a slight octave higher than usual. Seeing Simmons abruptly arrive out of nowhere, in a sense, had really riled her up a bit.

With a nod of his head, Simmons left them alone and headed down to report to Martin. Breathing a sigh of relief, Lisbon turned back to Jane and re-crossed her arms over her chest once more.

"Stay away from Doctor Steiner," he said.

She tossed her head to the side. "Is this what this is really about? Doctor Steiner?"

Jane drew his lips into a thin line. "I did not like the way he was leering at you."

"He wasn't leering."

"Yes he was. He wanted to have sex with you."

"Jane.…"

"And I did not like it."

Lisbon glared at him. "Because you don't like to share?" she scoffed.

He didn't reply to her, but merely stuffed his hands back into his pockets and casted his eyes downward. "Jane, whatever we had is over."

Looking up at her, he quirked his eyebrow and gave her an impish grin. Sure, she may have thought that, but he was still quite sure that having a man older than her chasing after her seemed appealing. "So, you don't mind that Steiner was picturing you naked on a bed covered in rose petals?"

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Lisbon's face flushed and her cheeks turned bright scarlet. His impish grin widening at his success at getting her to stop talking and see his point worked. He took one hand from his pocket and wiped the corner of his mouth, trying to hide the grin on his face.

"I'm done here," she said, voice a bit higher as she walked away from him.

~O~

By nightfall they had gotten absolutely nowhere. Well, except for coming up with a lead only for it to be dismissed by quickly figuring out that the suspect had an alibi. That setback had brought them back to square one, with Jane hovering around the evidence board trying to get a "psychic fix" on the culprit.

Lisbon scoffed when she had seen him doing this, questioning his effectiveness on the case. This caused Martin to gaze at her questioningly, as she usually didn't bark at the consultant merely because he got something wrong. It was known, though, that they tended to try to go down each other's throats and kill each other.

"You need to go home, Agent Lisbon?" Martin asked.

"No, Sir," she had replied.

For the rest of the discussion, Lisbon remained silent in hopes of her embarrassment to bow over and for all to be forgotten. Or, at least, for it not to come to mind whenever she would glance and Jane, but it was showing no signs of being forgotten thus far.

At about nine o'clock in the evening, Jane's "intuition" caught on to a suspect. Bernard Loupe, aged forty-six with a job as an accountant. Just by looking at his picture, Lisbon felt like she wanted to dismiss him seeing as he appeared to be a scrawny mass of nothing. But by gazing further into his eyes, behind the thick glasses, a shiver ran down her spine.

So much for the ex-husband theory, Lisbon mused.

"I guess I am correct," Jane smirked.

Looking over at the wily consultant, she nodded and glanced over towards Martin. Her boss stood from behind the table, his fingertips still grazing the top. "Simmons, go check it out." Simmons nodded and walked over to his desk. Opening it, he pulled out his gun, checked it, and holstered the weapon.

"Take Lisbon with you," Martin added. "She hasn't been out in the field lately and Minelli would like to see that."

Nodding, Lisbon too walked to her own individual desk and obtained her weapon and handcuffs. Simmons came towards her, holding out the car keys to let her know that he was ready and signalled with her head for them to head down to the garage. Casting one last glimpse behind her, Lisbon bid the bullpen farewell for the hour.

Once in the car, Simmons looked over at her with a questioning gaze before looking back at the road. "So, what's with you and Jane?" he asked.

Shrugging, Lisbon leaned back in her seat and fiddled with the safety belt. "Nothing is going on."

Simmons cast her another look with a raised eyebrow. "You two keep on looking at each other. I can't really place the look, but I feel like it's more than just mutual dislike."

Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest and looked over at her fellow agent. "He and I aren't doing anything."

"Lisbon," Simmons began, "I think he cares a great deal for you."

She was silent and refused to nod. Instead she looked out the window and watched as the various street signs and lights passed by as Simmons drove on. Within five minutes, he pulled up against the curb of a house with no lights on.

"I gotta bad feeling about this," Simmons said, glancing over at Lisbon.

Quirking her eyebrow up, Lisbon unbuckled her safety belt and started to reach for the door handle. "I'm not staying in the car."

Simmons smiled. "I'd never ask you to, Lisbon."

Nodding at her fellow agent, she stepped out of the car and walked side by side up the walkway, stopping before the door. Lisbon reached for the doorbell and promptly pressed down on the button. They heard it chime within the house and there was a sound of someone getting closer to the door. It opened, revealing Bernard Loupe in the flesh.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice void of any signs of faltering.

"I'm Agent Simmons and this is Agent Lisbon, we're with the California Bureau of Investigation, Mister Loupe. May we ask you some questions?" Simmons asked.

Mister Loupe crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe. His eyes landed on Lisbon, narrowing. "I don't see why not."

"Where were you this morning? At say, anywhere between one to five?"

The man's eyes veered to one direction before landing back on Lisbon. She had not asked the question, Simmons had. And yet Bernard Loupe insisted on gazing at her. It made another shiver run down the length of her spine.

"In my bed. Sleeping."

"Can you have anyone to verify that, Mister Loupe?" Simmons asked.

"No, I cannot." His gaze remained glued to Lisbon before briefly flickering up to meet Simmons's gaze. "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? It is rather late."

Another shudder coursed through Lisbon's entire body and just as she was about to open her mouth to decline his offer, Simmons answered Mister Loupe's question by accepting. With a tight smile and one last glance to Lisbon, Mister Loupe moved away and allowed them into his home.

Stepping in, Lisbon shivered as a chill hit her. Even though it was late April, it was still rather chilly. Especially when there was obviously no source of heat in the house. The second thing to hit Lisbon was the musty scent that filled the room. She wrinkled her nose at this, trying very little to hide it.

"The kitchen is that way," Mister Loupe gestured.

With a nod, Simmons started on towards the kitchen without glancing back at Lisbon. Drawing her lips into a thin line, she was just about to follow Simmons when the hair at the back of her neck prickled and a hand reached out and grabbed her upper right arm, stopping her from reaching her gun. Another hand reached for her left, taking it firmly and clasping it over her mouth.

The scuffle was enough to cause Simmons to halt in his footsteps and turn around, his eyes wide with shock that he saw Lisbon struggling in Bernard Loupe's arms. She tried to move around, but her right arm was now locked behind her back.

"Don't move, Agent," he said to Simmons.

Simmons raised his arms above his head. "Let her go, Mister Loupe."

Mister Loupe pulled Lisbon tight to his front. "Slowly remove your gun from its holster with two fingers, Agent Simmons." There was a tense moment before Simmons did as he was told. "Now, come here and remove this pretty little thing's Glock."

Scowling, Simmons walked over to Lisbon, glancing at her in the eye, and carefully reaching for it. When is fingers brushed against the grips of the gun, Lisbon began to squirm.

"Stop it!" Mister Loupe spat.

Simmons looked at Lisbon in the eye. "Do as he tells you."

Seeing that she was about to shake her head "no," Simmons grasped onto her weapon and pulled it out of its holster. Carefully, Simmons took a few steps back and slowly lowered the weapon to the ground.

Just a few moments after Simmons had moved away, Mister Loupe moved forward with Lisbon at his front. Trying to fight him only caused the man behind her to tighten his grip on her, digging his fingers into her upper arm the hand that was around hers. Then there was a tense few moments where nothing happened. Everything was still and Lisbon continued to look at Simmons. She was about to try to jerk out of Mister Loupe's grip, seeing as he was now used to holding her being passive, she felt his grip tighten and expel her forward, letting go.

She crashed into Simmons, who instinctually reached out to grasp onto her. Catching herself on her upper arms, Lisbon looked up momentarily to thank him and immediately took off after the suspect, now probable culprit, who had escaped from the door he had neglected to close.

The man hadn't gotten far, as he was currently running down the sidewalk and about to cross the street. Clenching her hands into tight fists, Lisbon pushed herself faster after the man. Her breath could bee seen in front of her in puffs as she exerted herself more than she had in a long time. Her legs carried her faster and faster, propelling her closer and closer to her target. When she got close enough to him, she leapt forward with her hands outstretched, grasping onto the back of his shirt and bringing him down.

Mister Loupe hit the ground hard, Lisbon following as she lay half on him. Her elbow and knee had connected with the concrete and she let out a grunt of pain before she tightened her grip on the man. He struggled, but she held on tighter until he was pinned beneath her. Reaching behind her, she pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slapped them onto each wrist.

"…You…have…the right to…remain…silent," she started, the puffs of steam coming out of her mouth erratically. "Anything you say can…be used against you.…"

"LISBON! DID-YA GET HIM?"

Looking up from where she had Mister Loupe pinned, she merely nodded. Simmons rounded the corner, quickly walking with a gun in hand.

"I'm so glad that Minelli assigned you to our team."

~O~

It was a little after ten when Simmons and Lisbon returned to headquarters. First, Jane spotted Simmons. Which, in all honesty was not hard as he was rather large. Second, he caught sight of a limping Lisbon ducking into the ladies room. Frowning at the sight, he followed started after her. He paused in front of the bathroom door and looked around to make sure no one was around before he pushed open the door. Moving around the corner of the restroom, Jane paused when he saw Lisbon standing in front of the mirror, her shirtsleeve rolled up. He also noted that it was bloodstained.

At the moment of his appearance, the door decided that's when it wanted to close behind him. It alerted Lisbon to his presence and when she saw him in the mirror looking back at her, mostly at her arm, she jumped back.

"God, Jane! What the hell are you doing in here?"

"What happened to your arm?"

Lisbon sighed and turned back to the mirror, pulling another paper towel down and dampening it. "I had to apprehend Mister Loupe."

Jane smiled. "Ah, and I'm sure Simmons didn't help at all."

"He caught me, that helped," she said in a resigned tone.

Blinking, Jane shifted his footing. "What do you mean by that?"

She looked down. "Teresa?" he continued. "What happened?"

Lisbon looked up at him, her hand shaking as she tried to wipe the drying blood off of her arm. "Jane, can you please go get the First-Aid?"

"Not until you tell me what happened."

Her eyes locked with his. "Patrick, please."

With a nod, he slowly left the restroom. He walked into the little kitchenette area and went into the cupboard above the sink. Pulling out the white metal box with the big red cross on the front, he walked back into the bathroom. Coming up to rest by the counter, he set the box down and opened it. Lisbon watched him the entire time, holding up her arm and her sleeve back.

He quickly pulled out some antiseptic and sterile gauze. Opening the bottle and pouring some onto the gauze, he held it out towards Lisbon's arm.

"You don't have to do that," she smiled softly.

Jane's eyes locked on hers. "No, I want to."

The first contact that the gauze had with her skin stung and Lisbon recoiled reflexively. He muttered a quick apology and continued on, cleaning off any remaining blood and making sure that the nasty scrape was clean. Once satisfied, he placed a piece of gauze over it and taped it down.

"Thank you," she said.

He smiled. "I'm not done."

Quirking her eyebrow at him, Jane gestured down to her knee. Lisbon rolled her eyes and shifted a little bit so he could kneel before her and slowly roll up her pant leg. When the fabric bunched up at her knee, Lisbon hissed in pain and she took the majority of the weight off of that leg.

There wasn't much of an abrasion on her knee, Jane noted, but he decided to clean it up anyway. It didn't need any sort of bandaging, but maybe it would require some ice for a few minutes to prevent it from swelling.

Once done inspecting her knee, Jane stood up to his full height and looked down at Lisbon. "Are you going to tell me about what happened?"

Her eyes shifted downwards before flickering back up to meet his gaze. "Loupe grabbed me after he invited us in for coffee," she started, "I wasn't going to take any. I never take anything from suspects or victims."

Jane nodded, "I know."

"He made Simmons and I give up our guns. After that, he threw me at Simmons and ran off. I think you can put the rest together yourself," she continued.

Jane nodded. "Did he touch you?"

"What?" she furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Did he touch you inappropriately?" he clarified.

"No!"

"When I ask Simmons, will he be able to tell me the same story?"

Taking in a deep breath, Lisbon nodded. "Yes, he will be able to tell you the same thing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Jane! Stop trying to take care of me! I can take care of myself!"

Quickly, Lisbon grasped a hold of the bloody paper towels and threw them into the trash bin. Briefly afterwards she finished cleaning up all traces that she had been injured and started for the bathroom door when he called after her.

"I will always be here for you, Teresa. And I need you to know that."

Jane watched her grip tighten on the handle, but she didn't look back when she limped from the restroom. With a sigh and a soft smile, Jane slowly began to return the First-Aid supplies back to the box.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

May 7-9, 2003

At four in the morning, Jane's cell phone rang. Answering it and hearing Martin on the other end, he learned that another serial killing had recently happened. Red John, he said, and that the director most definitely wanted him there within the next few hours. Especially since the murder occurred in San Francisco.

Hanging up the phone, Jane turned to the slumbering Angela and placed a soft kiss at her temple. She was facing away from him, and he wasn't surprised given the argument they had had the night before again. He was tired of the arguing and wanted the peace to return sooner rather than later.

Jane promptly got out of bed, showered, dressed, ate, and left a note for both his wife and daughter. As he was about to walk out the door, emergency case bag in his hands, he decided to set it down and do one last thing before he left.

Setting the bag down on the floor by the door, he made his way up the stairs and into Charlotte's room. Slowly, he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his baby girl's cheek and left the room, minding the new dollhouse in the middle of the floor.

Promptly after kissing Charlotte farewell, Jane picked up his bag and left the house and Malibu behind. After noon was when Jane pulled into San Francisco, and ten minutes after that until he pulled up on the curb of the crime scene. Parking his car, he left the vehicle behind and made his way up the sidewalk to the house with the yellow tape outlining its perimeter.

Simmons stood on the outside, his hands on his hips as he spoke to other law enforcement officials. As he walked by, Jane nodded and continued on into the house, flashing his identification card a couple of times as he walked by the necessary checkpoints.

After he entered the house, Jane made sure to side step the crime scene investigators pouring over the scene. And due to the fact that this was the serial killer's work, people from all sorts of crime departments moved in and out of the house erratically as if a race to get the best perception of what had happened here.

He stopped in the doorway and peered in. First he saw the bloody smiley face on the opposite wall as it gleamed down upon the bloodstain in the middle of the bed. The body had been taken out earlier to be processed, Jane knew.

Jane took a step into the room and slowly examined each and every detail he could find. From the pictures the woman, ranging from her mid to late twenties, worked hard at a bank. She recently started dating someone she liked, who would of course have to be questioned. And she had an affinity for peaches. This was because she had several types of peach décor around the house…and even in her bedroom.

"Do you think it's him this time?"

Jane was pulled out of his thoughts by the abrupt arrival of Simmons. With a sigh, Jane pointed carelessly to the bloody smiley. "Yes, I feel like it is him. It's like I can feel his dark aura."

Simmons, mesmerized, turned to look at Jane. "Really?"

Turning to look at the overweight agent, Jane smiled. "Yes, I truly believe that this woman was murdered by Red John."

~O~

As it drew later on into the afternoon, Jane arrived at the CBI headquarters. When he had walked out of peach-lady…Kandis Johnston's home, he and Simmons were bombarded by the press, causing it to take a lot longer to return to Sacramento. Well, it took Simmons even longer to return to Sacramento due to his frequent stops along the way at gas stations.

But when they arrived back in Sacramento, the first thing Jane was called to do was go along with Martin to Minelli's office. Minelli, looking quite aged due to the Red John case, sat behind his desk and massaged his temples. Martin sat on an opposite chair, his elbows on the table as Jane stood a few feet away.

"This is a nightmare," Minelli started. "An absolute nightmare!"

Jane could only nod as Minelli continued on. "The press has taken a liking to breathing over our necks to get the next story. Vultures!"

"My team and I are doing everything that we can, boss." Martin tried to soothe his superior, but little seemed to be working.

Minelli turned in his chair and rubbed his temples once more. "The press is questioning the effectiveness of the law. Red John has been wreaking havoc on California for far too long, Martin."

"I understand, sir. I will do everything in my power to stop him."

Nodding, Minelli stood from his seat. After mumbling something about needing to get a drink and some air, he asked for Jane and Martin to leave. Promptly doing so, Martin stopped Jane in the corridor outside of Minelli's office.

"Do you have anything, Jane?"

Drawing his lips into a thin line, Jane shook his head. "Uh, no I do not."

Positioning his hands on his hips, Martin uttered a quick "dammit" under his breath. "We have nothing, then. It's just like every other Red John case."

It would appear so, Jane thought to himself. And just like the previous cases the Bureau was no closer to catching him. Like Minelli had said, it was a nightmare. But Jane felt really no attachment to it. He was just a consultant.

"I need coffee," Martin said suddenly before going off in the direction of the kitchenette.

Smiling as the senior agent walked away, Jane placed his hands into his pockets and started his way towards the bullpen. He stopped short of the doorway, taking a moment to glance through the glass walls and watch as Simmons typed clumsily on his computer and Cho read through the case files for most likely the umpteenth time. Lisbon stood before the portable bulletin board, her eyes gazing at the various crime scene photos that ranged from each Red John case. Almost hesitantly, he took a few steps into the bullpen, smiled at Cho, who looked up from his reading, and continued on towards Lisbon.

"Trying your hand as the psychic now?" he asked her.

Jumping a little at his sudden presence, Lisbon frowned. "There's no such things as psychics," she told him in a low voice, her gaze still moving from picture to picture.

"Huh," he remarked and moved to sit on the edge of a nearby desk. Even though she was correct, he still felt the need to play on with the act. "I should be offended that you don't believe that I have the talent."

She didn't reply to him after that. Instead, Lisbon ignored him and continued to pull off and replace the pictures after she was done getting a good look at them. This continued for a good half hour before she left the bullpen in need of a coffee. He watched her go; his eyes couldn't help but follow her (and focus on her lower half).

When Lisbon left his line of sight, Jane felt the eyes of someone else on him. Pausing and slowly turning around he caught the sight of Cho watching him. The agent was looking at him with an annoyed expression, clearly not liking that he had been gazing at Lisbon's bottom in the slightest. That, or Cho knew that they had been having a secret rendezvous for since he had arrived. Well, Jane realised that Cho knew about the relationship they had had.

Giving Cho a slight nod, Jane put his hands back into his jacket pockets and walked out of the bullpen. Despite knowing that Lisbon was in the kitchenette pouring herself a cup of coffee Jane decided that he was going to try and make himself some tea. It was harmless.

As he turned the corner to enter the kitchenette, his body connected with a more petite one. Immediately after the impact, he felt hot liquid splash onto him and begin to seep into his clothing, and the sound of a cup shattering upon impact of the floor. Followed by this was a sharp his, which may or may not have come from his lips. Looking down, he spotted Lisbon taking a step back to evaluate the damage.

"Dammit, Jane! Why can't you just leave me alone!" her voice was raised, but not too much. She didn't want to attract attention to herself.

Carefully, Jane pulled his wet and coffee-stained shirt away from his body in hopes of preventing burns. "I sought a cup of tea."

"The hell you did!" her voice got a tad bit louder. "Even the last case you worked on you followed me around! Stop it and stay away from me!"

He shook his head. "I did not follow you everywhere," he started.

"You followed me into the bathroom, Jane!"

"You were injured, I took care of you!"

"Jane, I do not need to be taken care of! I can take care of myself!"

That did it. Her voice, since the beginning, had been growing louder and louder in volume. Now it was just reaching the tipping point. It was about to grow louder and attract a lot of unwanted attention. And in all honesty, Jane didn't want to be in the center of attention around the CBI with Lisbon concerned. If rumours got around to the media, he could kiss his marriage to Angela goodbye.

Pointing his hand in her direction, but using the other one to keep the wet shirt away from his belly, he knew his voice rose as well. "You're not listening to me. I was trying to help you, not accost you!"

"Could have fooled me! When we first met, the first thing that you seemed to think about was getting me in your bed! And when you finally did, it was like I was your—"

When Jane heard a gasp from behind him, he knew it was true that a crowd had gathered. Swallowing the lump in his chest, he turned. And his actions of turning are what caused Lisbon to stop talking and look around him, a muttered curse word escaping her lips.

"Uh, nothing to see, everyone!" Jane addressed the mass of people. "Just a minor disagreement, nothing else!"

"You owe me fifty…"

"…oh my God!"

"Martin's agent and consultant? Minor my ass!"

"Yeah, Taylor, I thought they hated each other…"

Rolling back and forth on his heels, Jane turned to look back at Lisbon. She wasn't there and dread seemed to seep into his stomach. Blinking at the empty space, he turned back at the crowd. Everyone continued to watch Jane and whisper about. Some ran off, no doubt to fuel the gossip pool. Clenching his single first, the one not holding the shirt, he started off to try and find Lisbon.

He knew she wouldn't be in the bullpen and nor would she be in one of the interrogation rooms. They were too close to everyone that had just found out about their…affair. Instead, he found himself climbing a flight of stairs and then another. He stopped outside a large door, finding it slightly ajar. Carefully, Jane pushed the door to the side and stepped inside.

It was an attic that still held traces of when the headquarters was an old factory. Smiling at the faint logos that graced the walls, Jane continued on and started to unbutton his shirt. Once done, he pulled it away from his stomach and looked down at the angry red marks. Grimacing, he just folded it a little over his stomach and searched for the door that led to the roof. He found it, and it too was half open. Smiling gravely, he pushed it to the side and stepped out.

There was Lisbon, standing near the railing with her arms crossed over her chest. She appeared to have taken her shirt off and was just standing in her white, now brownish, undershirt. Watching her for a couple of moments, he felt sadness dip into the pit of his stomach. It was his fault, sort of. After all, he hadn't really needed that cup of tea.

"I'm sorry," he said. "No one should have found out. Especially in that manner."

At the sound of his voice, Lisbon stiffened. He rolled on his heels once more. "There's a bit of a draft up here."

"Go away."

Jane paused, taking in her hunched over shoulders as a sign that she might have been crying. That was odd, she didn't cry. Taking a couple of hesitant steps, he placed his hand on her shoulder. "Teresa…"

He did not get the chance to finish his sentence, as Lisbon whirled around and struck him right in the nose. Recoiling back, his hand flying up to his nose to tend to it, he yelped. Blood started to seep through his fingers and drop onto his already coffee-stained shirt.

"Just stay the hell away from me! I'm done with this!"

Lisbon tried to push away from him and re-enter the attic, but Jane reached out and grabbed her upper arm with his un-bloodied hand. "Teresa, stop."

Wrenching her arm from his grasp, she pushed him away from her and he stumbled backwards, his lower body hitting the railing. Instantly, his hand flew away from his bleeding nose and grasped onto the railing as he felt his body begin to tip back. Heart pounding in his chest, he inhaled quickly.

"Te-RESA!"

Perhaps it was his calling her or the terror in his voice, but she turned around anyway. "What the hell were you thinking? You could have killed me!"

Her facial features remained passive at best, eyes blinking every so often. "You're fine, Jane."

"I almost went over the railing!"

"You're fine, Jane. Go back to your hotel." She turned away and started to make her way back into the attic.

"Teresa," he breathed, feeling his heart rate starting to go back to normal. "Please look at me."

Lisbon paused, almost inside the attic and turned. At that moment, a breeze blew by and swept her hair to the side, almost covering her face. With resignation, Jane sighed. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry for everything."

Her hand moved to grip the wall, her eyes locked onto his. Jane couldn't figure out what Lisbon was thinking about at this moment for the life of him, but he realised one thing. Well, he had realised long ago that Lisbon was not just a fling. No, she was more. A lot more than just a fling. There was something about Teresa Lisbon that made him want to be with her every second, even when he was with Angela. His time with Lisbon didn't feel wrong nor did it feel forced. It felt right every single time. And right now he was itching to take her into his arms and make her his with every fibre of his being.

Casting her eyes downward, Lisbon slowly left the rooftop and made her way out of the attic.

~O~

The sincerity in his voice is what had disturbed her the most. Ever since she had first met him, he maintained this sort of air about him that he didn't take things seriously. For one, the affair between them seemed to be barely thought through. Typical, she thought, for her to interest herself in the wrong sort of men.

Sighing, Lisbon stepped out of the shower and grabbed her towel. It was day two of the Red John case, and Lisbon was sure that nothing was going to happen. She had read in all the case files that they only found a body and the red smiley. Well, they also found Orville Tanner several years ago, but nevertheless the infamous serial killer was always one step ahead of them and seemed to know what he was doing. And well. Now, as they were still nowhere closer to finding him, the press was breathing down Minelli's neck like crazy. Meaning he was bringing the whip down hard over Martin's back, who kindly returned the favour to his team.

Lisbon dressed herself in her nightclothes and prepped herself for bed. Once done, she climbed into bed and leaned against the railing.

He had said that he was sorry for everything. For Patrick Jane to say that with that much sincerity, he had to be telling some degree of truth. She ought to forgive him or move in that direction, she thought. But soon after, she was remembering how he told her that she was nothing but a cheap fling and that his wife, Angela, was not. Well, of course she wasn't. She was, after all, his wife. Her head hurt.

With a groan, Lisbon leaned forward and massaged her aching temples. Her life had been just fine and dandy without Patrick Jane in it. But sadly, he apparently was part of the "moving to Sacramento package."

Huffing, Lisbon grasped a hold of a pillow and pushed it down, punched it, and rest her head above it. The man was so infuriating…the bane of her existence. Patrick Jane really made her life more complicated than she wanted it to be. Actually, she would much rather it not be complicated at all. That was the main reason why she moved to California in the first place, to get rid of the complications and start anew.

When a soft sigh escaped her lips, Lisbon closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep. Within a period of ten minutes, she felt herself drift away into sleep. The sound of a car passing by her apartment was heard only once.

A few hours later, Lisbon awakened due to her alarm clock. Rolling over in bed and silencing it, not really appreciating the music blasting her awake. With a sigh, she pushed the blankets from her body and started to get dressed. As she was in the middle of cleaning her teeth, she heard her cell phone ring.

Spitting out the toothpaste and spit, she set the brush down on the sink and jogged into her bedroom. She picked up the phone and flipped it open, pressing the green button.

"Lisbon," she said into the phone.

"We found someone that may have seen Kandis Johnston's murder."

It was Martin on the other end, sounding stern and authoritative. And at the sound of someone possibly witnessing a Red John murder, Lisbon's back straightened.

"Sir?"

This could make her career! Well, she had a pretty good reputation due to capturing William McTeir, but still! Being a part of the team that catches a mistake made by Red John will no doubt enhance her resume, but secure her a position elsewhere in a government job. Her mind began to drift, away from the prospect of finding Red John and towards the future.

She'd have a job with the FBI, something she had been thinking about for a long while. The prospect was so alluring that she was almost tingling with anticipation.

"Lisbon!"

Lisbon fumbled with her phone, taken aback by Martin's sudden bark on the other end. "Yes, sir?"

"I need you to come in as soon as possible. We're bringing over the witness now."

"Sure thing, boss."

"See you then," he told her before hanging up.

Flipping her phone shut, a small smile crept across Lisbon's face. It wasn't every day that someone got a great lead on a case like this, she thought to herself.

~O~

Julia Boucher, an average-sized woman with short blond hair and brown eyes, sat in the uncomfortable metal seat and fidgeted. There beside her was a cooling cup of coffee, untouched after she had drank almost half, as the woman continued to wiggle her fingers about.

Jane watched Miss Boucher closely, noting how nervous she seemed. He had read over the Red John case file once more, where he came to the conclusion that Red John's victims very rarely had witnesses. The only other witness, Thomas Bern, died mysteriously when he was T-boned on his way to Santa Monica. This captured Jane's attention only mildly, but he decided not to look much into it.

The door opened and closed to the interrogation room, allowing both Martin and Cho to enter the room. Cho immediately sat down opposite of Miss Boucher.

"Is there something wrong with your coffee, Miss Boucher?" Martin asked, his tone sincerely kind.

Fiddling with one of the rings on her fingers, Miss Boucher shook her head. "N-no, it's perfectly all r-right," she stammered. "Just a b-bit n-n-nervous is all."

Cho clicked the end of a pen and brought it down to the notepad before him. "What exactly did you see two nights ago, on the night of Kandis Johnston's murder?"

Her eyes growing in size and appearing as if she was sucking on a lemon, Miss Boucher looked down at her hands. "I-I saw a man enter her h-house. He w-wasn't too tall, I-I'm sure of that!"

Jane shifted his footing and peered at Julia Boucher. Something was amiss with her, but he could not quite place why he thought so. He noticed she seemed short of breath, but not too badly. He would not have guessed that she have such problems, as she seemed to be quite the athlete. She was, after all, wearing trainers.

"What are you doing here?"

Turning, Jane glanced over his shoulder to see Lisbon stepping into the room behind the one-way glass. Nodding at her and drawing his lips into a thin line, he turned back to look through the glass. "Trying to get a connection to our witness."

"Our witness, Jane?" she scoffed and came up to lean against the wall and gaze through the glass.

"Something's wrong with her."

Lisbon did not respond to him. She merely shifted her footing and continued to look through the glass. Obviously, she had heard him. It did not take much for her to do so as she was less than an arm's reach from him. The longer the silence seemed to last, the tension seemed to only grow in the room.

Julia Boucher gasped for breath suddenly, her hand clasping onto her chest. Martin stood to his feet and went around the table to assist her. Cho started to rise as he asked her for what was wrong, but Miss Boucher was unable to answer.

"Cho, call an ambulance!" Martin shouted as he held onto the woman, who was about to pass out.

Whipping out his cell phone, Cho dialled 9-1-1 and held the phone to his ear. "I need paramedics in interrogation room three!"

Behind the glass, Lisbon took one glance at Jane as she pushed away from the glass and ran from the room and into the one adjacent. Jane watched as she stood in the room, her gaze falling to Miss Boucher now lying limp in Martin's arms.

"What the hell?"

Jane's eyes went to the coffee sitting on the table and he narrowed his eyes. The woman had drunk from that cup of coffee, and as soon as she had, she seemed suddenly more fatigued and dizzy. His eyes suddenly widened, coming to the stark realisation that the coffee had been poisoned.

Leaning forward until he pressed a button, Jane spoke through the microphone. "The coffee's poisoned."

Lisbon's gaze snapped to his. "YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!" she yelled over the hysterics in the room as the paramedics began to swoop in.

Rolling his eyes, he pressed the button again. "Someone was trying to kill her for being a witness. They drugged her coffee."

"Mister Jane, this is a secure building—," Martin started.

"Someone got in," he interrupted.

And it didn't take him that long until it dawned upon him that it was Red John.

~O~

Lisbon paced the length of the roof. The stars were out tonight; she could see them all almost clearly in the midnight sky. Yes, it had been several hours since Julia Boucher died. A coroner was doing an autopsy at the moment to determine a cause of death, but he had already mentioned that a possible cause was cyanide. They were also having the coffee tested.

"Nice night for star gazing."

Whirling around at the sound of another behind her, Lisbon blinked at the sight of Jane standing beside the door leading into the attic, his hands in his pockets. "The coroner is almost done," he informed her.

She nodded and turned back towards the stars. "I also wanted to say something else, Teresa."

"Don't call—."

"I'm sorry."

Lisbon turned back to him. "You already said that."

Taking two steps towards her, Jane stopped suddenly. "And yet you do not believe me, Teresa."

Jane grinned, almost as if he was about to laugh. But it wasn't one of those kind of smiles – it was his more devious one. One that said a lot of things, and innocence was not on of them.

"Leave me alone, get the hell off the roof," she told him again.

"Not until you hear about what I have to say."

She crossed her arms over her chest as a shiver went through her. Stupid chilly air. Turning to him, she frowned. "I don't want to hear it."

"Too bad," he told her.

Lisbon turned back around and tried to ignore him to the best of her ability. It was impossible; as whenever she knew he was close to her she would feel her body seize up a tad bit.

"You are special, Teresa Lisbon. I admire you greatly for it."

Rolling her eyes, Lisbon scoffed, "now that we've got that covered. Jane, get off the roof."

"I care about you, Teresa, more than you know."

"Right," she scoffed once more.

"I enjoy every moment spent with you –."

"Oh, please."

"—and I have come to learn that I care very greatly for you."

At this, Lisbon stilled. She refused to turn around and face him, knowing that he actually was no longer all that far away from her. He was slowly but sure stepping closer and closer to her.

"I want you, Teresa Anne Lisbon."

Her heart stopped. No man had ever told her this, and thus she turned around to face him. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she wanted so very much to just hit him. He was only a few centimetres away from her, she could feel his warm breath tickling her skin.

"How dare you," she started. "How dare you say that to me!"

She hit him. Her fist connected with his jaw, knocking his head backwards and causing him to take a couple of steps back. His hands immediately flew upward to tenderly massage his jaw.

"Stay the hell away from me!"

"Teresa…" he mumbled.

Jane slowly started to walk towards her again, causing Lisbon to put both of her hands in front of her. "I meant it, Jane, don't come any closer."

He did, of course, test her patience. Without listening to her, Jane started to come closer until he had her lower body pressed into the railing. Growing even more aggravated with him, she pulled her shoulder back and was about ready to hit him again when his hands grabbed onto her forearm and pushed it into her side.

"What the hell—."

She was unable to finish her exclamation when another warm mouth covered her own. Her hand flexed in his, trying to break free and hit him again. Lisbon's other hand slowly began to come up to hit him, but he caught that one too. Lazily, he moved his mouth over hers as he kept her pinned.

Jane's tongue began to probe at her lips, asking for entrance. And in all honesty, she didn't know why she opened it to grant him access. Her entire mind felt dizzy to the extent that she felt cut off from the rest of the world. Slowly, Jane moved her arms up to around his neck. He held them there, carefully, almost as if he was afraid she'd strangle him once released. With much caution, he let go of her and reached forward to wrap one arm around her waist and pull her closer while the other arm went to tangle in her hair in order to change the angle of her head.

They broke the kiss together to take in another breath, but before Jane could lower his lips upon hers once more, Lisbon held up her hand. "No," she said.

Pulling away from her with much confusion in his eyes, Lisbon shook her head. "No," she repeated. "I can't d-do this."

She pushed him away from her and moved towards the door. Jane reached for her, but missed as his fingertips barely brushed the flesh of her forearm. He watched her exit through the door and abruptly leave the attic.

~O~

At two o'clock in the morning, Martin had indeed confirmed that Julia Boucher had indeed died from cyanide poisoning. The senior agent had also confirmed that her coffee had been spiked.

Jane listened in on the conversation between the team as he leaned against the doorframe. His shirt was un-tucked from his trousers and his hair tousled, but he didn't care about his appearance. After all, it was in the mere hours of the morning.

His gaze had been on Lisbon's from during the entire exchange. She sat at the table with a steaming cup of coffee (from the twenty-four hour shop down the street) with a bunch of papers before her. Her clothes too were rumpled and her hair was tied back messily. She looked like she had not gotten a good amount of sleep in days.

"We've hit another dead end," she murmured to herself.

Nodding without her knowledge, Jane pushed away from the doorframe and slowly made his ways towards her. As he stood before her, he felt that there was absolutely no smugness apparent on his face. The emotions on his face were plainly sincere, and he wanted Lisbon to understand this.

Without any hesitation, Jane trailed his index finger from her upper arm to her shoulder, grasping onto it to squeeze tightly. Lisbon looked down at his hand and then up at him. She didn't narrow her eyes or anything of that sort towards him, but she did reach forward to grasp onto his hand.

Looking over her shoulder, she made sure that no one was in the bullpen. With a deep breath, she stood before Jane and brought her hand to trace the bruise forming on his jaw. He flinched at the feeling of her fingers against the broken blood vessels, but relaxed into her touch.

Lisbon placed her hand on his shoulder and stood on her toes. She gazed at him in the eyes and pressed her lips to his softly. Recovering from his momentary shock, (he hadn't expected this) Jane placed both of his hands on her hips and kissed her back lovingly.

Everything felt so right, but that everything was so wrong.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

**May 11, 2003**

Placing the cereal bowl in the kitchen sink, Jane turned to Angela, who was kneeling down and fixing Charlotte's dress. Right before Charlotte had come down to get her breakfast, they had been arguing. He had informed her that another interview, where he'd put up the act once more, was going to happen next week. After hearing this, of course, Angela snapped. She had kept her voice low, so Charlotte would be unable to hear her, but she still expressed her anger in ways he could not describe.

"Are you ready to go, Sweetie?" Angela asked their daughter.

Excitedly, Charlotte bounced her head up and down, her curls moving along. "Yes, Mommy!"

Fixing the strap on her backpack, the little girl held her hand out for her mother to grab a hold of. That was a thing between them; Charlotte would always like to hold her mother's hand as she was being taken to school. It was always something that brought a smile to Jane's lips when he got the opportunity to observe it.

"Charlotte?" he spoke up, making the little girl turn her head towards her father. "Can I get a hug before you go?"

Charlotte's smile widens and she lets go of her mother's hand. She walks over to her father and wraps her arms around his lower half, mumbling a "goodbye, Daddy, I will miss you!" After that, she pulled away from him and clutched onto her mother's hand once more.

As they walked out the door, Angela shot him a look. It was one of annoyance…one that also read "we'll talk later." Drawing his lips into a thin line, he picked up his teacup and nodded to her. When she walked out of the kitchen, Charlotte pulling her towards the car, Jane moved his head back to take a sip of the warm Earl Grey.

~O~

Taking in a deep breath, Jane fiddled with the microphone situated on the lapels of his jacket. Something did not feel right, in all honesty, and he could not think of a reason why he currently felt ill at ease. It wasn't like him, especially right before a show like this. It was nothing, really. He would go stand in front of the crowd, another microphone (one that is on) in hand as he would give a psychic reading to the bunch of suckers. And then towards the end he would give an interview as in regards to his unique skillset.

Honestly, he's done this several times. He ought not to be nervous nor fell uneasy.

"We're on in five, Mister Jane."

He looked over at the woman in the headset, her hands clutching onto a clipboard. "Are you ready?" she asked.

Jane nodded. "Yes, I am Miss –."

"Abigail," she said, her eyes lighting up. "Abigail Holmes."

Smiling, Jane nodded once more. "Abigail, thank you."

Abigail diverted her gaze from his and blushed. His smile widening, Jane turned to look back into the nearby mirror and fiddled a bit with his tie. Insuring that it was all right, he took a step back and finished fixing his jacket. And by the time he smoothed down his slicked back hair, it was show time.

The stage was still within the interior of a television studio, which was fine. With an arrogant air about him Jane steps upon the stage in front of the audience, now mute. For a brief second, his fingers drummed along the side of the microphone and then he held it up to his lips. With a winning smile, he introduced himself.

"Hello, my name is Patrick Jane." The audience remained hushed all the same. "I can look deeply beyond the natural order and connect with those long lost."

He had the entire audience moving slowly on the edges of their seats. Their eyes were wide with wonder and curiosity. They wanted more and he'd happily provide it. Suckers, he thought, as he pushed the uneasiness away and moved into the role as the psychic medium.

"Which one of you is…" He indulged himself in smirking as he looked downwards, looking deep into his memory palace and remembering the list of guest members within the studio. And then he remembered the research on a few of the patrons. "…Jenny Andrews?"

Jenny Andrews was a rather petite-looking woman, her hair short and auburn. Her skin was pale and her eyes open wide with shock. And the shock is exactly what Jane wanted to be plastered across her face.

"Jenny, your father was an alcoholic, was he not?"

In reaction to the bulls-eye, Jenny's hand flew to her mouth. "H-how d-do you know t-that?" she stammered.

He paused for a moment, watching as Jenny's form morphed into a familiar face. Lisbon. Knowing that his eyes were no glazed over (which was actually rather good, as it could enhance his act), he tried to focus on Lisbon's shape in the crowd alone. He focused on her eyes, now growing watery. Taking a step back and holding his hand out, he watched as Lisbon turned back into Jenny.

Blinking for a couple of seconds, Jane took another deep breath and let his hand waver. A bit. "He says that he's sorry for all the pain he has caused you and your mother. Deeply sorry." He fixated his eyes on another point, watching as Jenny's hand flew to her mouth for the second time, her eyes now full of tears as her shoulders rapidly moved up and down. "He asks you to forgive him. Can you do that, Jenny?"

Erratically, Jenny nods. She is speechless as she begins to slowly sob. "He needs to hear it," Jane continued.

Jenny moved her hands away from her mouth, now sobbing before Jane, the audience, and on live television. "I forgive you, Daddy! I forgive you!" she wept.

Jane took a step back and moved his line of direction upwards. He smiled, going in for the kill and making sure that his gaze looked as if he were in a trance. "Oh, yes! He's smiling now. There are tears of joy! He says God bless you and keep you," he pauses and looks down a bit. "He's gone."

Coming out of his "trance," Jane notes that Jenny is now sobbing more freely than she had been earlier. The audience, amazed, clapped their praise towards the charlatan. Giving a smile at the audience and a slight wave, Jane walks over to the other two interviewers. The woman, clapping also, looked purely amazed.

"Amazing, amazing, amazing!" she cried.

The man looked over to the crowd. "She's amazed! Patrick!"

Jane smiles and reaches for the glass of water and takes a sip. "One second."

The woman looks over to her fellow interviewee. "Give him some time."

In slight resignation, the man drew his hands towards him. "Come on back to us."

Jane set the glass down on the table and sat back in his chair, smiling. "I'm back. Thank you."

Smiling and laughing, the woman turns back to the audience. "He's back!"

"So Patrick, I understand that you're also sort of a paranormal detective. Is that right?"

Ah, he went right into it. Jane remembered that he had been warned earlier that they would most likely want to talk about the Red John case. Especially since they (The CBI and he, he had meant) had previously just worked on a case in regards to the serial killer.

"I try to help the police when I can," Jane stated.

"And you're helping them hunt this scary serial killer, what's his name?"

"Red John," the woman said.

"Red John?"

Jane nods in affirmation. "That's right. Red John." He let his eyebrows move downwards a bit for effect. "He's killed at least eight women that we know of. The police asked me to try and get a psychic fix on him and see if I can get a sense of who this man is."

"How do you do that exactly? Get a psychic fix on someone?" the male interviewer asked.

"Well, true demonic evil burns like fire. It burns with a terrible cold, dark flame. I force myself to look into that flame and I see an image of the evil-doer; in this case, Red John," he paused for a dramatic effect, "He's an ugly, tormented little man; a lonely soul. Sad, very sad."

Jane watched as the male interviewer and his female counterpart sat back, their hands on their thighs as they looked at each other. Smiling, Jane reached for the glass of water and brought it to his lips. Leaning back into his chair, he took a sip and watched as the interviewers and the audience mulled over what he had just said to them all. As he listened to the whispers buzz around the television studio, he felt the cell phone in his pocket vibrate. And with much grace, he stood and walked off the set.

~O~

Lisbon sat in her hotel room on the bed, wrapped in only a flimsy little towel as she blotted her hair dry. Her cell phone lay on the bed beside her, on and ready for Jane to text her back. When she set the towel down on the flowery duvet, she heard her phone chirp and saw the little window light up. **NEW TEXT** , it read.

Picking up the phone and flipping it open, she pressed the button in the center and watched as the text clearly came up on the screen. It was from Jane, and he was informing her that he would be there shortly. She smiled and closed the phone to set it aside. She got up from her place on the bed and walked into the bathroom to dry her hair and move the towel away from her body.

Once her hair was dry, she went into her little duffel bag and pulled out her undergarments. Pulling them onto her body, she reached in once more and removed the dress that Jane had bought her those months ago. Holding it up to her body and smoothing out the small wrinkles, she smiled. And without much further ado, she undid the zipper and stepped into the dress.

After she was done dressing, Lisbon walked into the bathroom and began to fix up her hair and apply a light amount of make up. It was all natural, for the most part. And by the time her hair was brushed out and the make up lightly applied to her delicate features, she heard a knock on the door.

Running her fingers alongside the bottom of her lip, she stole one last glance from the mirror and walked out from the bathroom and towards the door. Glancing into the peephole, she smiled at seeing Jane's face on the other side.

Quickly, Lisbon unlatched the door and pulled it open. Jane stood before her, leaning against the doorframe as he slowly started to walk into the room and grasp onto her face with both of his hands.

"You're wearing the dress I bought you," he said.

She nodded. "Well, all the rest were at the dry-cleaners."

"Whatever you say," he said as he pushed his way into the room and leaned down closer to her. "Though, I must say, that this dress fits you wonderfully. I have good taste."

Once the door was closed behind them, he brought his lips down to hers. His kiss was unforgiving and fierce that had her knees trembling beneath her. Lisbon pulled back from him to catch her breath, allowing their gazes to lock before their lips caught each other's once more. His hands moved to tangle in her hair, more forcibly angling her head upwards to allow his tongue to thrust into her mouth. Their tongues slid alongside the other, dancing a passionate tango.

This time it was he who pulled away from her; his cheeks flushed bright red and his breath coming out in pants. "What do you want me to do, Teresa?" he asked.

Wordlessly, Lisbon leaned into him and nuzzled her nose against the column of his neck. His hands slid from their place within her hair and down her neck, shoulders, and arms. They jumped from her forearms to her waist to pull her closer to him until she was pressed flush against him.

"This," she whispered and kissed him again.

Lisbon wrapped an arm around his neck, the other starting to push his jacket at its lapels from his body. The other hand soon assisted the other, and Jane shrugged his jacket off and wrapped his arms around her petite body once more. With his jacket off, Lisbon's hands roamed across his chest, eventually ending at where his tie and began to slowly undo it. Without breaking lip contact, she got the tie away from his body and threw it to the ground beside his jacket.

"Teresa, did you just put this dress on?" he murmured against her lips.

She was about to tell him no when his lips moved away from hers and began to trail down the side of her neck, his nose nuzzling as he went. "You also smell freshly showered."

"Maybe."

He chuckled against her and reached behind her for the zipper on the back of her dress. Finding it, he slipped it down and watched as the dress loosened from around her body and she slowly slid it from her body. It pooled around her ankles and she stepped out of it, her lips returning to his as she deftly unbuttoned his shirt. Her hips pressed up against his and rotated, feeling him there. He groaned at the sensations, even more so when she pushed the shirt from his broad shoulders until it lay on the ground beside her dress.

"Teresa…" he whispered against her lips.

She smiled against him, feeling his hands slide down her body until he picked her up. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she leaned in and kissed right behind his ear as she felt them move towards the bed. One of his hands reached behind her head and moved her away from his ear, bringing her lips back to his. And with one final moment, he looked her in the eyes and kissed lovingly her before placing her onto the bed, his body following atop of hers.

~O~

It was hours later when Jane heard his phone go off, but he ignored it. He was too happy holding Teresa Lisbon in his arms once more. It had been a long time since they had had sex with each other…but actually this encounter was different than the previous. No, it hadn't been just sex. That's what he, for the most part, tried to tell himself every time he went to her. But this time was different.

Yes, he had accepted that his relationship with Teresa Lisbon had changed this time. And the more he contemplated the aforementioned relationship, the more he wanted her. The intimidating notion was that he wanted this more than his marriage to Angela.

Despite what he felt for Lisbon, he still cared for his wife, and for that he did not wish to hurt her. Angela was a wonderful woman, but maybe not the wonderful woman for _him_.

"Patrick?"

At the sound of his lover's voice, Jane's gaze softened and he looked down. Lisbon was lying on her stomach, her body propped up on her arms. Her hair was tousled from their recent coital encounter.

With a smile, Jane leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "I thought you were asleep," he murmured and began to nuzzle her ear.

She sighed, "I was."

"Something on your mind?" He nipped her earlobe, causing Lisbon's breath to hitch in her throat.

She inhaled. "I'm just curious about some things."

"Yes?" he asked teasingly, trailing kisses down the side of her neck and lightly biting down on her throat.

Lisbon was silent for a few moments, and this caused Jane to pull away from her neck and look down at her. She appeared troubled more than anything else, and feeling a wave of concern overtake his being, Jane cupped her cheek in his palm. "Do you think we have a future?" she asked softly.

 _Yes_ , his mind screamed! _Of course!_

Jane gazed into her eyes and smiled. With a slight nod of the head, he pressed his lips onto hers. "Yes," he murmured against her.

Wrapping his arms around Lisbon and turning her around so that she was more on her back, Jane felt her stiffen only slightly. She was still concerned if he was sincere or not, which he hoped that he could prove to her that he was, in fact, sincere.

His mouth moved lazily against hers, one of his hands trailing down from her waist towards her thigh. Jane pressed Lisbon more firmly into the mattress and lay above her, his fingertips tightening their grip as he nipped her bottom lip. She moaned in his mouth, her hands tangling in his curls.

"Patrick!" she gasped when his mouth touched her neck once more.

Smiling against her skin and pressing a kiss at the juncture – more towards her shoulder, he felt her grip strengthen on his scalp. His mouth continued to lazily run over her body, trailing downwards then back up once more. As their eyes gazed longingly at one another, they joined their bodies and soon became one, moving against each other in a familiar rhythm.

Jane took both of Lisbon's hands in his, clasping onto them tightly and pressing them into the pillow beside her head. When he felt himself begin to tumble down from his peak, his hands clamped down upon hers and his mouth descended upon hers, kissing her with all the emotion he could put into it.

"I – love – you," he said against her lips, mind void of all rational thought.

Within his arms, Lisbon stilled and removed one of her hands from his grasp. Their faces were only a few centimetres apart from each other as she trailed the back of her hand down the swell of his cheek. He knew that Lisbon was not much of a woman to express her feelings in tears, but when he saw the little droplets fall from her eyes, he could not resist kissing them away.

She pushed him away carefully, her hand splayed out across his chest. Jane looked down and grasped onto her hand, squeezing it in his. His eyes trailed back up to hers, noting how her gaze never faltered from his. Slowly, she leaned forward and captured his lips in her own, tongue moving at the seam of his mouth. His hand left hers and went to place on her upper arm, where he trailed it downwards and took her hand once more. Their tongue slid alongside each others, touching every single crevice within their mouths.

Finally, she pulled away from his mouth and pressed a soft kiss before nipping his lower lip deviously. He smiled down upon her, rubbing his hand against her upper arm as she shifted and began pulling the blankets over them. Jane took that job away from her, grasping onto the soft covers and being sure to pull them up enough to adequately cover them both. They lie on their sides, eyes looking into each others, and at that moment Jane leaned close to the corner of her mouth.

"Sleep," he said.

With a slight nod, Lisbon moved closer to him. Her arm wrapped around his chest and her head was placed upon it. Their legs tangled together and he pulled her close. They found themselves asleep in less than a minute.

~O~

Angela finished setting the plates and cutlery into the dishwasher. She and Charlotte engaged in a macaroni and cheese dinner, seeing as her husband had decided not to show up for the meal yet again. It was his turn to cook, after all, which is why she simply opted for a quick dinner.

Leaning against the countertop, Angela sighed. She knew something was amiss with her husband. Well, she'd known that for a while now. But his absence at dinner is what told confirmed her suspicions. He was seeing someone else.

Teresa Lisbon.

She knew that Agent Lisbon was a kind woman at heart, but her very presence set Angela's teeth on edge. She was, after all, sleeping with her husband.

Sighing yet again, Angela pushed away from the countertop and started to head up to Charlotte's bedroom, where she knew her young daughter would be waiting for her bedtime story. Sadly, this was also her husband's turn to tell the tale.

Arriving in her daughter's bedroom, she smiled at seeing her young daughter sitting cross-legged on her bed (under the covers, of course) with a storybook in her little hands. With a beaming face, which slowly shrunk down at the sight of her mother rather than father, Charlotte placed the book in her lap.

Angela understood immediately, knowing that Blueberries for Sal was the weekly story read to Charlotte by her father. And because he was not here, Angela was not to read it to her.

Walking into the room, Angela pressed a soft kiss to her daughter's forehead, pulled the blankets up to her chin (mindful of the book clasped tightly in her daughter's little hands), and clicked the light switch off at the end of the room. Drawing her lips into a thin line, Angela added yelling at her husband for disappointing their daughter to her list of things to do tomorrow.

She made her way back downstairs. She glanced out the window once and proceeded to check the locks. After making sure they were adequately secure, she started to make her way back up the stairs when she heard a noise outside the house. Pausing with her hand on the banister, Angela slowly turned to look out the window. She saw nothing and instantly she felt her senses flair up in alert.

"Patrick?" she called out hesitantly.

Hearing no one answer her, Angela let out a sigh. No one's out there, she thought as she started to make her way back up the staircase. Checking on her daughter one last time and smiling at her cherubic little one, she re-closed the door and headed back to her bedroom, where she stripped herself of her attire and pulled on her nightgown.

~O~

Awakening to see it pitch black outside, Jane sat up and gathered the blankets around his lower body. He had to leave now, knowing that Angela would be upset with him. He had, after all, promised to be there for dinner and to read Charlotte her favourite story before bed.

As he slowly began to get off of the bed, he heard his lover stir behind him. "Patrick?" he heard her murmur sleepily.

Turning towards her, he smiled and leaned down to press a kiss on the corner of her mouth. "I need to go now, all right?" he said. "I will be back for you."

Sleepily, Lisbon nodded. Smiling at her fatigued reaction, he stood from the bed and found his undergarments. Slipping them onto his body and picking up his pants, he came to the decision that he had to make things right. With Lisbon, he meant. And by doing that he was going to build on to the family he already had with her. Yes, it would hurt Angela in the process, but it must be done. With Lisbon he felt complete somehow, and he had not felt that way with Angela.

Fully dressed, Jane glanced back at his sleeping lover curled into the blanket. Taking one last glance as he picked up his car keys, he set out and started to make his way towards his faithful BMW.

He drove home thinking the entire way. Mostly his thoughts were about the new family he was about to build, but his thoughts also came to rest with Charlotte. What would happen to her? Surely it would be wrong for him to take her away from her mother….He gripped the steering wheel tightly at the sudden realisation that he would be splitting Charlotte up between her two parents. That was the one thing he did not want to happen.

Going around the bend, he decided he would have to continue his decision. It was unfair to Angela, and by default, Charlotte, that he was stuck in a marriage that he did not cherish. He would have to go through with this and end it.

Jane eased his car into the driveway and killed the engine. Drumming his fingers against the wheel once more, he summed up enough of his courage and got out of the vehicle. He unlocked the door to his house and moved inside, setting the keys aside and moving towards the stairs, only pausing to wheel Charlotte's tricycle away. His hands took hold of the banister as he started to make his way up the staircase in twos, knowing to take care of this carefully.

A smile moved onto his face as he got to the top of the stairs, knowing this was the first step to a happier life. With his heart hammering in his chest, he continued down the hallway, his mind briefly drifting to Teresa Lisbon being his forever. As he neared the door to his bedroom, he saw a note taped onto it. Angela left him a note, most likely. Pausing to read it, within seconds it felt as if a bucket of cold water had been doused atop him. And that that cold water was like sharp knives piercing through his skin.

His breath caught in his throat as he read over the words, his body growing shaky. All rational thought shot from his mind instantly as his heart stopped completely in his chest.

_"Dear mister Jane,_

_I do not like to be slandered in the media, especially by a dirty mind-grubbing fraud. If you were a real psychic, instead of a dishonest little worm, you wouldn't need to open the door to see what I've done to your lovely wife and child."_

Trying to regain his breath, Jane's hand grasped onto the doorknob. He pushed open the door, his heart beating wildly inside his chest once more only for it to stop once more when the door opened.

A lamp was lying down; it's light angling upwards at the sickening red smiley face painted on the wall opposite of him. The smell of blood is what hit him second, followed by the sight of his wife lying on her back; eyes wide open with a cut almost severing her neck. Charlotte was lying atop her mother, her eyes only half open as if she had been sleeping but taken by surprise.

Seeing his wife and child lying dead and bloodied caused Jane to fall back against the wall and slowly slide down it. He felt sick to his stomach and with a shaky hand; he groped inside his jacket for his cell phone. Pulling it out and flipping it open, he dialled 9-1-1.

The phone slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor when Jane sunk to his knees, throwing his head and emitting a mournful cry. Slowly standing to his feet, he shakily moved to smooth his hand down his daughter's cheek, his hand coming into contact with her caking blood.

"Charlotte…" he croaked, seeing his baby girl dead and gone before him.

_"…dirty mind-grubbing fraud...."_

"W-what have I done?"

Gathering Charlotte in his arms and holding her close to his chest, he let out a mournful cry. Gently, he started to rock his baby in his arms, not caring that her blood was slowly starting to cover his body. His little girl, his Charlotte, could not be dead. No, head seen her this morning. She was alive and well. This was a joke. No, Charlotte was not dead and neither was Angela. They were alive.

They were alive.

They were **_alive._**

The salty tears that ran from Jane's eyes met the blood on his daughter's cheeks. Merging together, they slowly slid down Charlotte's face and down onto the bedspread as father mourned over daughter.

Jane took one glance at Angela, loosening his death grip on Charlotte to allow space for him to pull his wife into his arms. He held both to his chest, sobbing into their hair.

"Oh, A-Angela, I'm s-so s-sorry."

As Patrick Jane held both of the girls in his arms, he rocked them both. He cried for them both, not ceasing even when he heard the sirens draw nearer in the distance and now when he felt the EMT's try to pull him away from his dead and bloodied family.

~O~

The sound of her phone ringing is what pulled her from her peaceful slumber. Turning over in her sleep and clumsily grasping onto it, Lisbon flipped it open and held it up to her ear.

"This is Lisbon," she yawned.

There was a sigh on the other end…Minelli?

_"Agent Lisbon, we have a situation."_

Her eyes widening, she sat up in the bed, noticing that it was void of her partner. Feeling slightly exposed whilst speaking to her superior, regardless of it being on the phone, she pulled the blankets up and around her.

"Sir?"

There was a pregnant pause. _"Red John has struck again."_

Shutting her eyes and cursing, she pushed the blankets off of her and began searching for her blue jeans and t-shirt. Neither were professional by any means, but they were certainly better than wearing a dress to a crime scene.

"Where do I need to go?" she asked.

Minelli sighed again. _"Malibu, Agent."_

Malibu?

 _"The victims are Angela and Charlotte Jane, Agent Lisbon."_ Minelli said, knowing that she would be wondering as soon as Malibu was mentioned.

At the mention of Jane's family, the phone slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground. It broke apart upon impact, scattering across the floor as she quickly grabbed her clothes and then the car keys. She all but ran from the hotel and to her car to drive to Malibu, breaking the law just this once.

She arrived to find police cars swarming the area and crime scene tape wrapped around the Jane house. There was an ambulance in the distance, the paramedics shaking their heads. Not far from the ambulance was a coroner's van.

 _Oh no,_ she thought and ran underneath the tape, flashing her badge. She entered the house and ascended the stairs. Upon reaching the end of the hall, she flashed her badge once more. "Agent Teresa Lisbon, CBI," she declared without her voice faltering.

The police officers parted and allowed her into the room. She stopped immediately at the sight of mother and daughter lying on the bed. Her breath hitching in her throat, Lisbon leaned against the wall and continued to look over the scene.

Trailing her eyes down both their bodies, her eyes stopped at Angela's toes. They were painted red, and not like one would at a salon. No, that was blood on her toenails.

Feeling her body begin to shake and lose her calm, Lisbon dismissed herself and made her way outside, where she leaned against a nearby tree. Every single emotion possible bubbled up inside of her and she felt as if she were caught up in a very bad dream. Angela and Charlotte Jane were dead by the hands of Red John.

_Oh, Patrick….What did you do?_

Pushing herself away from the tree and trying to compose her person, she started to walk back towards to the police cars when she saw a familiar man sitting on the bumper. Yes, Jane sat nursing a cup of coffee – untouched, obviously. He was covered in blood.

Slowly, she walked towards him until she stood before him. "Patrick?" she called, not knowing what to say or ask.

Instead of answering, Jane just blinked and continued to look on through her. His hands began to shake and the coffee tumbled from his grasp and onto the ground, soaking into the concrete and the soles of her shoes. Lisbon leaned down to hold onto one of his hands, but he pushed her away from him. Her heart nearly breaking, she moved back before coming to sit down beside him on the bumper of the police cruiser.

They sat in silence side by side until dawn.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

**May 13-21, 2003**

Everything seemed calm. Everything seemed chaotic. There were many words that could be used to describe this situation. Calm, in the sense that an individual felt numb to the rest of the world. Chaotic as to the course of an individual's life after a loved one dies.

For the last two days it has been the same old story. Jane would come into the interrogation room, sit down in the metal chair across from either Cho or Martin, and merely stare blankly at his hands. Occasionally he would shake his head and deny that his wife and child were dead, often stating that he was merely asleep. In the room adjacent, Lisbon found herself leaning against the wall and peering through the one-way glass.

She watched Jane shake his head and bury his face within his hands, his shoulders hunching upwards. "I-I should h-have l-l-listened to m-my wife," he stuttered.

Lisbon shifted against the wall. This was the first sentence they had been able to get from Jane in the last two days. Sure, he'd say the occasional "no," but never a full sentence. His first sentence made her feel like everything had stopped in the world or at least slowed down dramatically.

He suddenly looked up and gazed at his interrogators, and in the fluorescent lighting did Lisbon truly see how horrible he looked. His hair was sticking out in all directions and he could use a shave. His clothing was rumpled; no doubt that he'd been wearing it for the last two days. He was also dreadfully in need of a long shower. Underneath his eyes were dark shadows, almost like bruises. His appearance alone should be evidence that he was not present at his wife and child's deaths. If it were necessary, she would tell the court that Jane had an alibi – that she had been with him at the time of the murders. She felt her throat almost close up at the very thought of admitting to the government that she was having an affair with a married man, whose wife and child had just been slaughtered by the infamous serial killer, Red John.

"What did your wife tell you, Mister Jane?"

Lisbon hated the way the question sounded so cold coming from Cho's lips. He was all business and she greatly admired him for that. But sadly, it hurt her to see Jane's eyes simply glaze over as he averted his gaze towards the one-way glass. Looking straight at her, in a sense. Martin had told them earlier to treat this case just like any other, and this was why Lisbon had not interrogated Jane once. Her boss had taken one small look at her and concluded that she would not be the one to talk to Jane during these trying times.

Jane drew his lips into a thin line and shook his head again, this time burying his face completely in his arms. Across form him, Martin sighed and got up from his seat. Cho started to pull the paperwork and photos back into the file, straightening them up before standing himself.

"We're not going to get much more from him, Cho. Try to get the video footage from the interview." The younger agent nodded in affirmation and left the room without looking back. Martin turned towards the one-way glass and waved Lisbon to come in. Obediently, she nodded her head even though her superior couldn't see her.

She left the observation room and entered interrogation, her eyes looking down at the carpet. "Take him home, Agent," Martin told her.

Looking up and quirking her eyebrow, she spoke, "Sir?"

Martin started to make his ways towards the door. "You and Jane have some sort of connection. Take him home with you, maybe it will do him some good."

She did not think that was best.

"Sir, you don't think he did this—." She looked over at Jane, who was still crumpled over on the table. If he weren't breathing, Lisbon would have suspected foul play.

Her superior didn't reply to her, he merely drew his lips into a thin line and left the room. Though, he gave her one knowing look before he turned away and started to walk back to his office.

Lisbon stood still for a moment, her hands balled up into fists. Letting out a breath she'd been holding, she turned towards Jane and allowed for her gaze to soften. She slowly walked over to him, prodding him in the shoulder. In response, he grunted at her. Smiling grimly at the annoying man, she placed her hand behind his shoulder and tenderly rubbed.

"Come on, Patrick. Let's go."

It took some time, but Lisbon was able to pull Jane away from the metal table. And it took even longer for her to get him to leave the room with her. When he finally decided that it would be all right for him to go with her, Jane held onto her arm tightly as they walked down to the elevators. The only time he relinquished his grip on her arm was when they were in the car driving back to her apartment.

~O~

They were not dead.

He was simply dreaming. Yes, that was it. After the show, he had gone to Lisbon apartment, had sex with her, and fell asleep. He was still asleep. This was all a bad dream.

**They were not dead.**

His baby had not been slaughtered. Blood was not spattered against her pink walls. The master bedroom was not stained russet. He will wake up in a matter of seconds, laughing at himself for the obscurity of all of this. This was all a nightmare. This was not real.

THEY WERE NOT DEAD.

"Patrick?"

The voice beckoning him sounded like it was under-water. Unfocused. Not really there. The hand on his shoulder felt heavy, but not completely there either. It didn't feel real.

"I'm making some tea. Would you like a cup?"

The corner of his right eye twitched. His nose felt itchy. He didn't want a cup of a tea.

Slowly, Jane shook his head. The hand on his shoulder grew heavier, but was slowly lifted away from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lisbon stand to her feet and make her way into the kitchen. No doubt, she was making the tea.

One hour passed, and he still sat there. His gaze was trained on a little baseball glove situated on an old shelving unit.

A second hour passed.

A third.

Fourth

Fifth.

The pot whistled.

Jerking at the sound of the teapot clanging against the cooking range, Jane looked over his shoulder to watch as Lisbon poured out to cups of tea. She then added cream, spilling a bit on the counter, and sugar before stirring each cup counter-clockwise.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

Lisbon was coming back over to him now, her finger looped inside the teacup handles. She gave him an uneasy smile as she lowered the tea in front of him before she sat down on the floor in front of him. She blew on her tea and took a little sip from it. A slurping sound was heard.

She set the teacup on her knee and cleared her throat. "When my mother died, I didn't know what to do. For the longest time I pretended that I was sleeping and that she was alive, waiting for me to awaken with a huge breakfast down in the kitchen. But every morning I would wake up and the kitchen would be…empty. And I—."

Narrowing his eyes at the teacup, Jane clasped his hands together and watched the steam rise up and swirl into the air. The tea was hot. His nose was itchy. Lisbon took another sip. His heart rate was now racing.

"It's my fault," he whispered.

Lisbon paused, the cup being held just beneath her lips. Lowering it, she gazed at him. It was his fault. He was the reason why they were dead.

NO.

They were not dead.

Across form him, Lisbon reached over to touch his hand. He moved away from her, standing abruptly and moving into her bathroom. He closed the door behind him and locked it. He was glad that she let him.

~O~

Jane was quiet when she drove him back to CBI Headquarters the next morning. He stared out the window the whole time, like a child amazed by the Californian scenery around the car. Well, sans the amazed part. His face was void of any kind of happiness, but full of fatigue and pain.

When they arrived on the serious crimes unit floor and passed the bullpen, Jane stopped. Lisbon was about to turn around and question why he had stopped moving when she heard it clearly.

" _Tormented little man; a lonely soul. Sad, very sad."_

Stiffening, Lisbon reached for Jane and grasped onto his arm. She tugged him towards the interrogation rooms, but he would not move. His eyes were glued to the television as Simmons and Cho went over the video footage. Pulling away from him, Lisbon glanced up to chance a look at Jane's face. And she immediately wished she hadn't.

Agony. Pure agony was plastered across his face, as he seemed to relive what he had said during that interview. Just as she was about to open her mouth and call out to either Simmons or Cho, a throat cleared from behind her. Slowly turning around, she saw Minelli standing a few metres away from her, a Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hands. With his head, he made a gesture for his agents to turn off the footage.

When the television was turned off, Jane blinked. He was far from normal, but he was able to listen to Lisbon's subtle urges for him to move into room three hundred nine. Numbly, he did so and sat down at the metal table once more.

"Come with me, Agent Lisbon," Minelli told her.

Nodding, Lisbon watched as her superior sat opposite of Jane. He had to make another gesture for her to follow in and sit down. She brought her hands into her lap and shifted in her seat.

"Mister Jane, I—."

"It was my fault."

Minelli seemed taken aback by this. Not once had Jane ever admitted to something being his fault. Lisbon exchanged a glance with him, but continued to look forward at Jane. She watched as he brought his hands atop the table, fiddling with them.

"I-I was making so much money," he continued. "I was having s-so much f-fun. I didn't listen to her when she asked me to stop."

Jane seemed to withdraw. Leaning back into his chair, he covered the lower portion of his face with his palm. "I should have listened to her. I should have spent more time at home. I should have stopped. I was making so m-much money. Having too much fun."

Minelli's lips drew into a thin line and he turned around. He made a gesture to the tech behind the one-way glass to stop recording the video. It was evident that they were not going to get anything out of Jane. He was too out of it, too hurt. It would be a long time before he would be able to give them anything worthwhile. Lisbon knew this; she'd seen this grief before. The spouse is guilty and feels responsible for the death of the deceased. Especially if there had been an affair going on….

Biting down on her lip, Lisbon got up from her chair and left the interrogation room.

~O~

On the twenty-first of May, it rained. It splattered all over the black umbrella, dripping down and wetting the already sodden earth. The rain created mud. The mud covered the bottom of his shoes.

He stood in the cemetery where two open graves stood. On the edges of were two tombstones, each with a name engraved in the stone. Jane leaned forward and ran his fingertips over the curves of his wife and daughter's names, closing his eyes and spelling them out slowly. He let the tears that had been in his eyes fall, blending in with the rain-soaked earth below his feet.

The funeral home workers carefully began to lower Charlotte's coffin into the ground. Every time she went down just a mere centimetre, Jane felt his heart clench. That was his baby, his little girl being lowered into the earth. Parents were not supposed to watch their children be buried. He then watched as Angela was lowered down. Guilt consumed him and he remembered what he had told her on their wedding day. He remembered telling her that he would remain ever faithful and protect her.

Then men that put his family in the ground gave him sympathetic glances and slowly began to walk away. Jane merely nodded and tightened his grip on the umbrella, his gaze not leaving the graves. They were gone.

They were dead.

He would never see them again.

It was his entire fault.

Jane's knees sunk down into the wet ground, the mud sinking into his pants. The umbrella fell from his fingers, landing beside him with a slight thud as he leaned forward, grasping onto the grass and slick dirt with his hands. Jane threw his head back and yelled out for his family as the hot tears fell down his cheeks.

Looking up at the sky and not caring that his clothing stuck to him like a second skin, Jane let out another pitiful howl as he felt his heart shatter completely. He let the despair come to him, sink into his very being, and take over. Jane cried out for his lost family once more, knowing that it would do nothing but bring him more pain, as he fell back down to gaze into the earth.

From the distance, Lisbon watched. Her hands held onto an umbrella, though she did not appear to have been using one for she was almost as wet as Jane. She heard him, even from this distance, voice his emotions. Clearly, like a bell, she heard him call out to his late wife and daughter. Her heart was broken, but in a different magnitude than Jane's. It hurt her to see him in so much pain, and to see him consumed with so much guilt. It hurt her to see two innocent lives lost to such an evil person.

She was consumed with guilt. It was choking her.

Tightening her hold on the metal rod, she turned on her heel and left. Every step she took, she felt the tears leak from her eyes and run hot down her cheeks. Trying to walk faster to her car, her foot caught in an exposed root. She lost her balance and tumbled down, the impact with the ground knocking the wind out of her lungs momentarily.

Carefully, she stood herself back up and started to brush off as much of the mud as possible when a prickle to the back of her neck alerted her that someone was watching. With the mud washed off her hands, she turned on the spot to see if anyone in her direct line of sight was watching her. First she glanced at Jane, who was kneeling on the ground looking away.

The sensation heightened and she moved around again, her eyes scanning every direction possible. It started to rain harder, making visibility less possible. So, Lisbon shook her head and blamed it on the events as she started to continue her way to her car.

Lightning cracked in the distance, precisely hitting its target. Lisbon jumped, her heart fluttering in her chest as it tried to return back to its natural rhythm. Letting out a breath she had kept within her, she stepped into her car and turned on the engine.

The cool air conditioning hit her wet skin and she shuddered. Wordlessly, she groped around for her keys. In only a few mere moments, she was gone and heading back to her empty apartment.

~O~

When the rain became too terrible to stay around in, Jane started to make his way back to his car. It was not too far away, but with all the slippery mud, it made it take longer. Fumbling with his keys, he unlocked the car and was about to enter when he saw a plastic bag with a note within it secured underneath his windshield wiper blade.

Plucking it out from under the blade, he turned it over. His eyes glazed over as he read over the four words typed out.

" _And so it begins."_

It was a simple and chaste message. His hands began to shake as the bag dropped from his hands and fell to the cement road. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened the car door. He sat down on the nice leather seats and started his vehicle. Putting it in gear, he pulled away from the curb and made his way out of the cemetery, the car tires driving over the note.

Jane drove until he pulled onto a freeway, where he simply accelerated his vehicle. Momentarily he contemplated suicide so that he could end this madness, but he stopped before he would allow his car to collide with the guardrail. Instead he pulled away and continued on down the road.

As the car propelled forward, Jane watched as the water droplets accumulating on the window slowly slide away. The water would slide down the length of the car before falling behind, falling back onto the asphalt that he had already left behind.

Patrick Jane had just finished one stage of his life, but was beginning the next. Though, he was not quite so sure how it would all turn out quite yet but he was sure about one thing. He was sure that the next one being lowered into a coffin would be Red John. And Patrick Jane was equally sure that he would be the one sending him there.

It has begun.

**End of Part One.**


End file.
